Inverted Enemy
by Gusha
Summary: Harry's fifth year. Sev is not a spy. A Severitus fic, sigh. Baby Python, Tea Leaves, Non-Quiddich flying, Abstract Wizard Paintings.
1. Asphodel

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowlings is the creator of the wizarding world. I do not own or claim any part of it. This is yet another Severitus Challenge fic. My apologies for choosing a topic that has been covered so many times before. I hope I may add something to the sub-genre.  
  
A/n- I know very little about the weather patterns in England, but I assume that even the south of England gets heat waves. Also, even if the average house in Surrey does not have air conditioning, Vernon has sold enough drills to afford it. On the topic of cellars… If it is out of character for Privet Drive to house them, I don't want to know about it.  
  
*****  
  
On the news that morning, the weatherman had jovially predicted the hottest day of the summer. Unfortunately, the air conditioning at Number Four Privet Drive had chosen that day to gasp its last. The repair men had promised to check in on it, but not until noon on next Tuesday – three hot days away.  
  
Aunt Petunia, hot and annoyed, had assigned Harry the most unpleasant task she could think of that would not actually kill the boy in the heat.   
  
Harry was to clean the cellar. Aunt Petunia had instructed him not to open any of the neatly labeled crates, but instead, just move them all, dust and sweep around them, then put them back right where they were. Harry was unpleasantly reminded of detentions with Argus Filch.  
  
Once that was done, Harry was required to organize the open boxes of old magazines and books onto the careworn shelves that had been relegated to the cellar when Uncle Vernon had purchased new ones for the parlor.  
  
When she was satisfied that Harry would be kept busy for most of the day, Aunt Petunia dragged Dudley off to the tailors to have new knickerbockers made for his school uniform.  
  
Harry was glad that the cellar was much cooler than the rest of the house. He finished the moving and dusting quickly, before turning to the marginally more interesting work of actually sorting through boxes.  
  
Some were full of old school books, apparently belonging to his aunt and uncle. There were several crates containing books Dudley had received as gifts, but never read.   
  
Then, in the middle of a box full of gardening books, one slipped out of its jacket and landed with a painful thud on Harry's toe.  
  
Harry stared at it in astonishment that went beyond the mild pain. He picked it up. It was a small, battered spell book called "Simple Charms for Complex Problems."   
  
Harry was shocked. How in the world could it have gotten there? Surely if Aunt Petunia had ever seen it, she would have destroyed it immediately.   
  
Harry looked at the dust jacket still in his other hand. It read "Organizing Your Annuals." He shook his head in continued bewilderment. Who would have slipped this into his Aunt's things?  
  
Harry opened the volume and looked at the inside cover. He was hoping for a definite sign that it had belonged to his mother. He did not find what he expected. Someone had written in it, but it was not inscribed to Lily.  
  
Della, my flower,  
Good luck on your N.E.W.T.s.   
Don't study too hard.  
  
It was signed, but Harry could not make it out. The first letter was probably an S, but maybe an F. It certainly was not a J for James. The rest of the name was blurred into a line.  
  
On the opposite page, someone else had written a name: Asphodel Maddis.  
  
Harry stared at the book in confusion. He was quite sure that he had never heard of either Della or Asphodel Maddis.  
  
He flipped through the book, looking for more clues. It looked like an interesting book, but there was nothing else useful.   
  
Excited, Harry took the jackets off all the other books in the box, but was disappointed to find they were all boring, non-magical books.  
  
Frustrated, Harry took the spell book up to his room. He was determined to take the book back to school with him. He wanted to have it securely in his things before Aunt Petunia came home and spotted it.  
  
When he returned, the cellar, which had begun to be a bit stuffy, was welcome for its cool comfort.  
  
Harry was about to move on to the next box when something on the floor caught his eye. He picked up the stiff rectangle and held it up to the light. It was a Muggle photograph. Three young girls were playing in a sandbox.   
  
He walked over to the cellar's main lamp to get a better look. All three girls looked vaguely familiar. They looked enough alike that they might be sisters.   
  
Harry turned the photo over. Someone had written on it. "Lily (8) Della (7) and Petunia (6) at Grandmother Reece's House."  
  
He looked back at the image. He could identify his mother now, the one with hair as red as Ron Weasley's. On the right, yes, if he squinted he could imagine that the brightly smiling child might be his sour aunt. That left Della in the middle.   
  
Harry peered at her curiously. All three girls looked remarkably similar.  
  
He tentatively decided that Della might be an aunt that he had never heard about.   
  
Della had taken N.E.W.T.s, which meant she was a witch. If so, Aunt Petunia would have ignored Della's existence as she would like to have ignored Lily's.   
  
Harry put the picture into his pocket.   
  
What about Asphodel Maddis, though? He shook his head. He needed to talk to someone who had known his mother.  
  
Harry turned back to his work, now carefully checking under the dust jacket of each book.  
  
*****  
Harry waited until late that night to write to Sirius. He started with the usual comments about life at Privet Drive. Dudley was on a new diet this summer. It was some insane plan hatched by an American doctor. At least Harry was not starving this year.  
  
However, he planned to eat all the carbohydrates he could get his hands on as soon as he got back to school.  
  
Amazingly, the diet seemed to be doing both Dudley and Uncle Vernon good. It seemed that Uncle Vernon might have some neck there after all.   
  
As for Harry himself, he had been putting on quite a bit of muscle, between the diet and the exercise he and Dudley were forced to do together. Harry liked swimming the best. It was the most like flying.  
  
At the end of the letter he added a post script.  
  
'By the way, did my mum have another sister? Maybe one named Della? Also, do you know anyone named Asphodel Maddis?'  
  
Harry nodded in approval and sent the letter off with Hedwig.  
  
*  
  
Dear Harry,  
Your mother only had one sibling, Petunia. Della and Asphodel Maddis are the same person. She was related to Lily, her cousin? Maybe. I don't recall.   
She was in Ravenclaw, about a year behind us in school. I didn't know her well. I have no idea where she is now, or whether she is even still alive. I hope that helps.  
Perhaps you should write to Dumbledore. He would know more.  
Love  
Sirius  
  
*  
  
Dear Professor Dumbledore,  
I recently came across a name, Della Maddis. Sirius says she might be related to me. I was wondering if you might be able to tell me something about her. I am always curious about my family. Any information you could give me would be greatly appreciated.  
Harry Potter  
  
*  
  
Dear Harry,  
I regret that I have little information for you. I suggest that you speak with Severus Snape. He knew Della Maddis better than anyone, except perhaps Lily Potter.  
Yours truly,  
Albus Dumbledore.  
P.S. I recommend speaking to him in person after you return to school. 


	2. Night Flight

Disclaimer: Anything recognizable is most likely not my property.  
  
*****  
  
Severus Snape winced at the pain in his arm. He set his quill down, capped his inkwell and pushed his chair away from the desk and the ledger he had been studying.  
  
The mark had been aching since the end of the last term. Ever since that first, terrifying time right after Potter and Diggory had disappeared.  
  
In the beginning it had not been as bad. It had felt as it always had with the Dark Lord in power. The Mark had only truly burned hot while Voldemort was actually calling his supporters.   
  
Now it hurt all the time. At frequent, irregular intervals as now, it stabbed him with immense pain. Apparently, Voldemort had evolved a way to modify the original spell in order to torture him.  
  
Snape turned towards the row of medicinal substances arranged along a low shelf. Poppy had provided a list of possibilities. He had brewed each, hoping that one of them could control the burning pain in his arm. Many of them dulled the pain for a short period of time. One made it go away entirely for about ten seconds.   
  
The problem with completely eliminating the pain was that when it returned, it was even more unbearable for having been absent.   
  
The Dreamless Sleep Potion helped, if you were willing to be unreachable for several hours. However, like many of the others, it could become addictive.   
  
Then there was the bottle of Fire Whiskey. No.   
  
This pain was bearable. He pulled up his sleeve and stared at the mark. It hurt less than a broken bone. It hurt less than a dislocated joint. It hurt less than the deepest bruise from a sharp blow.  
  
What was truly maddening was the irregularity of it.  
  
He took a deep, calming breath. "Pain is nothing. Pain will pass. I will relax. The pain will wash over and through me and be gone." He concentrated on the words as he spoke them aloud. "This will pass."  
  
He looked in disgust at the abandoned work on his desk. Hopeless.  
  
He needed something that would distract him. He stood, wincing again as he moved his arm. He scowled and shook the offending appendage.  
  
He strode to the door of his office. As he went he plucked a small key on a long black cord from a hook near the door. He looped the cord around his wrist twice as he swept up the corridor. He left the castle by the front door and took the path towards the Quiddich pitch.  
  
He made a wide circle around the stands. He could see the hedges had been completely removed. He approached a small outbuilding, just out of sight of the school.  
  
He entered.  
  
The only furnishing was a tall, wide chest of locked drawers. The third drawer from the top was marked with a small black square.   
  
Snape fitted his key into the lock and opened the drawer. Inside was a top quality broomstick, custom made for him by the owner of Quality Quiddich Supplies in London.   
  
Snape placed his hand over the polished ebony handle.  
  
"Up." He commanded.  
  
The broom flew into his hand. He grasped it firmly and relocked the drawer.  
  
He left the broom shed, mounted and flew up into the night sky.  
  
He raced his broom, looped around the school, getting faster. He sped over the forest, dodging the tops of the tallest trees.   
  
Then he swept low over the lake, reaching low to skim the water with his fingertips.   
  
He slowed, breathing hard. He was out of training. He should find more time to fly.  
  
He spiraled up lazily, taking advantage of a warm updraft. He reached up a hand to the moon and grasped at it. He grinned that he missed.   
  
He flew a slow circuit of the boundaries of the grounds. The magic of the wards and protection spells tingled against his skin.  
  
He flew back to the school and saw the figure waiting for him on the top of the tallest tower.  
  
Snape landed neatly beside Dumbledore and wiped his face on his sleeve.  
  
"Nice night." Dumbledore commented.   
  
"I hadn't noticed." Snape scowled at the older man.  
  
"Right." Dumbledore agreed calmly. "Is it bad tonight?"  
  
"No worse than it has been." Snape replied, leaning on the battlements at the top of the tower.  
  
"Minerva believes she has figured out how he is doing it." Dumbledore said.  
  
Snape did not turn. "That is progress, at least." He refused to grasp the hope Dumbledore was offering.  
  
"Yes." Dumbledore agreed. "Madame Maxine lent us some books that are proving quite informative."  
  
"Oh?" Snape turned to look at the Headmaster.  
  
"Yes. Mam'selle De La Cour brought them. She has taken work in Hogsmead village. She arrived just this morning and paid Minerva a visit."  
  
"That is good news." Snape agreed. "I will speak with Minerva."  
  
"In the morning, Severus." Dumbledore said firmly. "It is late."  
  
Snape nodded. He mounted his broom, intending to take it back to the broom shed. He rose a few feet into the air, then changed his mind and touched back down.  
  
"I think I will keep this in my rooms for a while." He said, not looking at the man beside him. "I may need it again."  
  
"Indeed."  
  
Snape trudged down the hundreds of stairs to his rooms. He stripped off his outer robes and sprawled across his bed.  
  
Within a few moments he slipped into a deep, exhausted slumber—without the aid of any potion.  
  
***** 


	3. Birthday Post

Disclaimer: Please do not suppose that I am delusional enough to belive that I have any claim on JKR's genius.  
  
Kari - Yes, I am hoping that it will not be run of the mill. I have some things planned. Hehehehe  
  
Mikee – Sev flying is one of my favorite images. They will find information, but… we will see.  
  
Julie Av() – Thank you. And I will. I plan to finish up before June, but no guarantees.  
  
A/N- Posts will be frequent for a while, but we had better not get used to it, for if we do, Gusha's schoolwork will suffer.  
  
*****  
  
Harry tried to stay awake to greet his birthday, but the spell of lethargy cast by the hot summer night lulled him to sleep.  
  
He was startled awake, just after midnight by the hooting of several owls and the weight of a large parcel on his chest. Harry reached for his glasses and shoved them onto his face.  
  
Hedwig was sitting on top of the parcel, eyeing him carefully. When she was sure he was awake, she hooted and flew over to her cage. Harry looked around the room. Pig was there, along with two other owls he did not recognize. School owls, he guessed blearily.  
  
The School owls, deciding he was ready for their letters, deposited them on top of the parcel, and then flew out the open window.  
  
Harry moved the pile off of his chest and stood up.  
  
"Hey, Pig, come here." He hissed, not wanting to wake the Dursleys.   
  
The tiny owl flew down and fluttered excitedly as Harry untied the parcel from its leg.  
  
Harry opened that first. It was a long flat box, shaped suspiciously like a book. Inside was another box, about the size of his thumb. Harry pried the lid off of that box as well. Inside was an odd, roughly bean shaped object. Harry shined his flashlight onto it, but still could not determine what it was.   
  
He reached for the letter.   
  
Happy Birthday Harry,  
I hope you like your present. I wrote to Dumbledore for special permission for you to keep it at school. The book should tell you all about taking care of it. I wanted to get you a poisonous one, but Mum wouldn't let me.   
When he wrote to us, Dumbledore told Mum that we are not to invite you to stay. Rotten luck. Bill is staying for the summer. I haven't heard from Hermione. I hope she is having a great time in Bulgaria. The twins asked me to enclose a note for them.  
Ron  
  
Harry shook his head. What an uninformative letter. He ignored the note from the twins in favor of pulling the book out of its paper wrapper.  
  
"Your Python: From Egg to Adult"   
  
Harry gaped at the title then at the tiny box. A python egg? He had special permission from Dumbledore to bring a snake to school? Harry shook his head and closed the box firmly. He reached for the letter from the twins.  
  
Dear Silent Partner,  
To show our appreciation for your generous contribution, etcetera, we are enclosing a receipt for goods purchased in your name with your share of the current profits.   
In other words, we discussed it and decided that you were unlikely to accept money, but might take a birthday present. Present the receipt at The Reptile House in Diagon Alley when you go to buy your things.  
Yours truly,  
Fred and George  
  
The school owls had brought a card from Hagrid and Harry's school letter. Besides the regular book list, the latter contained a long list of potion ingredients he would need the following year. Harry groaned at the length of the list. Snape must have some horrendous things planned for them.  
  
Harry turned to the package Hedwig had delivered. It was very heavy. He pulled the letter off of the top.  
  
Dear Harry,  
Bulgaria has been really fun. It will be good to get back to Hogwarts, though. The O.W.L.s are this year so we all need to study hard to prepare.   
How have you been, Harry? Has your scar hurt at all this summer? Take care of yourself.  
I should be in Diagon Alley right before school starts. I hope I see you there.  
Hermione  
  
Harry grinned at Hermione's mention of the Ordinary Wizarding Levels. She had probably sent him some books to help him prepare.  
  
He tore the paper off of the package. Oh, wow. He thought immediately. It was a small crate with Bulgarian writing all over it. It looked just like the one at school that held…  
  
No. She couldn't have, she wouldn't have. No Way. He shook his head. They were too expensive.  
  
He carefully opened the latches and peeked inside. The crate shuddered. She had!  
  
The bludgers were securely fastened in. The Snitch rested inside its magically guarded case and on top of the Quaffel was another note from Hermione.  
  
Harry,  
Bulgaria makes some of the best Quiddich balls in the world. Viktor helped me choose these. The dealer gave me a great discount. Partially because I was there with Viktor, but mostly because I said they were for you. Take good care of them.  
Hermione  
  
Harry latched the crate shut again and put it under his bed. What a wonderful surprise.  
  
Harry was a bit disappointed not to have received anything from Sirius, but maybe it would come in the morning.  
  
Harry turned off his light; put his glasses back on his bedside table and drifted back off to sleep.  
  
***** 


	4. Visiting

Disclaimer: Uh, like, what I said before. Uh huh. *nods*  
  
pixyfairy120 - Yes, yes, thanks. Severitus' full challenge can be viewed from a link in her user profile.  
  
Kateri - thanks  
  
Creamy Mimi – The research for the snake part was awful. I hate pictures of snakes. I always feel like they are going to bite me. So, imagine me, dumpy witch in a cloak, in a bookstore, trying to read a book without touching the pages. Lol.  
  
Kitala – My thanks to you as well.  
  
Enfleurage – Do not get used to people staying in character. *giggles* I will try to pull them gradually into the shapes I wish them to assume, tell me if someone switches too fast. (care for some tea anyone?) And thank you for the compliment.  
  
Them Girl – They sucked me in and twisted my mind. Lol.   
  
Cricket – I will post when I can. I have more planned out than I have typed so far, and I am still being bombarded with ideas while I am at work. Originality is something of a goal, yes.  
  
Elfmoon87 – You will find out. You will find out. Everyone should go read your story. As they are reading the acknowledgements, we can tell that they have time on their hands.  
  
Thank you to all my readers.   
  
*****  
  
Snape scowled when he realized he was rubbing his arm as he walked. He placed both arms firmly at his sides and clenched his teeth.   
  
He swept round another corner and came face to face with the blasted poltergeist.   
  
Peeves was tying ropes into a web across the corridor.   
  
Snape did not pause for a moment. He pulled out his wand and caused the strands of the web to wrap firmly around Peeves. He then strode on by without comment.   
  
Snape ignored the shrill protests emanating from the resulting cocoon. He allowed himself the smallest of smiles.  
  
He stopped beside a doorway and knocked firmly on the open door.  
  
Minerva MacGonagall looked up from the enormous tome she was studying.  
  
"Oh, Severus, come in." She marked her place, closed the book and reached for another, slimmer volume.  
  
"Dumbledore said you might have something new." He grimaced, and then reminded himself to try and be pleasant. She was helping him.  
  
"Yes, indeed." She said. "Please, have a seat."  
  
"Thank you." Snape said as he sat.  
  
MacGonagall opened the book in her hands and offered it to him. Snape skimmed over the page quickly. Snape carefully put the marker back in the book and closed it. He placed the volume back on the desk and closed his eyes.  
  
"You see?" MacGonagall said sadly. "We know now how it probably was done…"  
  
"But so far, the only remedy would be to have Voldemort himself touch it and will it back to its original state." Snape shook his head slightly. He opened his eyes and looked directly at his colleague. "Unfortunately, that is not an option."  
  
"No. I should say not." MacGonagall lowered her eyes, frowning slightly. "Still, there is that paragraph about removing birthmarks we found last week."  
  
"I still do not agree that it is relevant." Snape growled.  
  
"And I still think that it could be modified." She sighed. "Let's not argue, Severus. There are still several volumes from Madame Maxine to plod through."  
  
Snape nodded. "Where do you want me to start?"  
  
"Start with the one that I have already finished." She gestured to the book he had just set down. "There were some alchemical references that I did not quite understand."  
  
Snape picked the book back up and began at the beginning.  
  
*****  
The morning of Harry's birthday was a case of life as usual at Number Four. Aunt Petunia took Dudley to the shops, leaving Harry to work in the garden.  
  
Harry finished before the main heat of the day and settled down in the shade of the house where he could see his relatives returning before they spotted him.   
  
He had almost dozed off when he had the odd feeling that he was being watched.  
  
Harry snapped alert and glanced around uneasily. He peered closely at the hedge and suddenly saw eyes in it. Not big house elf eyes, as he had seen once before, but rather eyes set in the face of a big black dog.  
  
"Sirius?" Harry asked quietly. "Is that you?"  
  
The dog nodded and tossed his head away from the house.  
  
"No one is here. Wouldn't you rather come inside?"  
  
Sirius considered for a moment before nodding. Harry let them in through the back door and closed the kitchen curtains.  
  
Sirius Transformed. He was looking remarkably well for someone who was still officially on the run. His long black hair was clean and neatly brushed. The front locks were braided to keep it out of his face, but the rest hung loosely down his back. His face and body had filled out, so that he no longer looked half starved. He looked very much like his parent's best man again.  
  
"Harry!" Sirius exclaimed. "You have grown."   
  
They both grinned, and then Harry stepped forward and hugged him tightly.  
  
"You look really good, Sirius. I don't think the Muggles would recognize you from your fugitive photos now."  
  
"I have been worried about you, Harry, after everything that happened at school."  
  
"Sit down." Harry invited. "I've been fine. Can I fix you some tea?"  
  
"Sure." Sirius said, sitting. "What about your nightmares, you scar?"  
  
"Not a twinge all summer." Harry said, putting the kettle on. "And before you ask, I promise to let Dumbledore know the moment anything happens."  
  
"That's good."  
  
"I've taken to mixing my own teas. It makes the Muggles nervous." Harry grinned. "Would you rather have a tea bag?"  
  
"No, whatever you are having would be fine." Sirius looked around the kitchen.  
  
Harry pulled out a tray full of small glass bottles. Bottles that looked exactly like potion ingredient jars. He set the tray on the table and turned back to the cupboard for his mortar and pestle.   
  
Sirius looked at the bottles in amusement. Each was labeled with an obscure and scary looking name. Sirius laughed, recognizing some of the names. Harry grinned in response.  
  
"Nothing I could not purchase at the Muggle market." Harry said. "I got the bottles from an advertisement in the Daily Prophet. I have been getting it delivered after dark. The names I got out of one of my school books."   
  
Harry sat at the table. He lifted each jar in turn and opened it. He sniffed the aroma of each herb and added varying amounts to his mortar. He crushed the herbs before adding them to the teapot. Finally he added a large spoonful from a jar labeled tea.  
  
Sirius watched the process in amused astonishment.  
  
"I have researched my ingredients, of course." Harry said. He jumped up to fetch the whistling kettle. "There is nothing dangerous about what I am doing." He poured the boiling water into the teapot and replaced the lid. "I don't have any sweetener, but I added a good deal of licorice root, so it shouldn't need it. Would you like some cream?"  
  
"Yes, and then sit, Harry." Sirius grinned. "Listen, I'm really sorry I didn't come sooner. Dumbledore has me running here and there. I'm sort of staying with Remus, but I have been gone more often then there. Are the Muggles treating you all right?"  
  
"Yes, actually. They generally give me a wide berth these days. I have plenty of time to myself." Harry poured out the tea and offered Sirius the cream pitcher. "Chores, of course, but that is to be expected."  
  
"I really wish I could take you in, Harry." Sirius said.  
  
"Don't worry about it, Sirius. I know why you can't. Seriously. It has even gotten easier to deal with the Muggles. I just mention you or Aunt Marge." Harry grinned. "Did you hear about that? It was the only magic I have ever done here. The fact I never got punished for it has made the Muggles doubt all they know about the restriction of underage wizardry. That is one reason they put up with my tea things."  
  
"You still hold that over them?" Sirius asked dubiously.  
  
"Anything to get them to leave me alone." Harry said, sipping his tea without cream. "They even let me work on my homework this summer. I suppose it helps that I stay out of the way as much as possible."  
  
"Remus wants to invite you to stay, but Dumbledore thinks it would be too dangerous. As your relatives, the Dursleys are part of a protection spell that is very deep and ancient magic." Sirius explained.  
  
Harry grinned. "I would love to see Uncle Vernon's face if he knew that. Oh, well, he'd try to throw me out, I expect."  
  
"And according to Dumbledore, that is the last thing we would want." Sirius said seriously.   
  
"Oh, I know." Harry said. He finished his tea and swirled the leaves around as he had been taught in Divination class. He tipped his cup to drain it. He looked up at Sirius, who was watching him, slack-jawed.   
  
Harry blushed, but peered into his cup anyway.  
  
"Anything interesting?" Sirius asked blandly.  
  
"Just a moment." Harry turned the cup carefully. "Fortune, friends, separated by an inverted enemy. Inverted enemy?" Harry frowned. "No matter how I turn it, it is either inverted or negated." He sighed.  
  
Sirius was still watching him skeptically. "You're not taking the tea leaves seriously, are you?"  
  
Harry laughed aloud. "Not seriously, exactly. Like any oracle, they give you something to ponder in relation to whatever you are currently thinking about." He winked. "Besides, I had to memorize the meanings for my Divination class."  
  
"Ah, of course." Sirius agreed.  
  
"It has become part of my daily 'Freak out the Muggles' routine." Harry shook his hair out of his face. "Actually, it has been getting more and more accurate the more I do it. Want to know what I saw this morning?"  
  
"Um, Harry…" Sirius frowned.  
  
"The Grim."  
  
Sirius gasped and Harry grinned.  
  
"A great big, spectral dog filling the whole cup. It wouldn't change shape, no matter how I looked at it."  
  
"Harry!" Sirius looked shocked and frightened.  
  
Harry laughed. "I knew how to interpret that, of course, and here you are, sure enough."  
  
Sirius' mouth fell open and Harry laughed even harder. "Every time I have ever seen a grim anywhere, it has been you, Padfoot."  
  
Sirius looked seriously taken aback. "Harry…um…"  
  
Harry quieted. "Sorry, Sirius. The look on your face when I said 'the Grim.'" Harry smiled harder than ever, and pushed his hair out of his eyes again.  
  
"Is your hair getting longer, Harry?" Sirius asked suddenly.  
  
"Um, I hadn't really noticed, but I guess it might be. I haven't had it cut recently." Harry pulled on a lock of his hair, as if to measure it.  
  
"James never cut his hair either, but it never got any longer. I used to tease him about it because he could never do anything with it." Sirius smiled.  
  
Harry shrugged, trying to think of the last time he had actually gotten a haircut. Aunt Petunia had taken him when… When he was ten! Harry quickly changed the subject.  
  
"Would you like me to read your leaves?"  
  
Sirius looked skeptical.  
  
"Come on, it'll be fun." Harry cajoled. "You don't have too take it seriously."   
  
Sirius drank the last of his tea and handed the cup to Harry. Harry turned it as he had been taught and then peered into it.  
  
"Upheavals, a bit of danger, and…that's odd, I've never actually seen that in a cup before. A life changing shock requiring rethinking old grievances." Harry set the cup back down, smiling uneasily.  
  
"Thanks, Harry; I'm sure I needed to hear that." Sirius grimaced.  
  
"Erm, sorry."  
  
"Here, I brought you something." Sirius reached into his pocket and drew out a small package. "For your birthday, you know."  
  
"Thanks, Sirius." Harry opened the paper to reveal a small flat box. He lifted the lid. His head turned to the side a little as he tried to figure out what exactly it was. "Um, it's very pretty." He said diplomatically. It was a circular, with feathers and crystals and a silver bell attached…  
  
Sirius laughed. "It's a dream catcher, Harry. A group of American witches make them and bewitch them beyond what the Muggles traditionally do. It is supposed to catch bad dreams and nightmares while letting the good dreams slip through the net." He grinned.  
  
"Thank you, Sirius. That was very thoughtful." Harry said.  
  
Just then the front door opened and slammed shut. Harry started at the noise, but Sirius acted even before Harry could speak. He transformed and was out the door in a flash. Harry cleared up the tea things and slipped his present into his pocket.  
  
He was washing the dishes at the sink by the time his aunt got to the kitchen.  
  
"Can I make you something for lunch, Aunt Petunia?" He asked calmly, trying to be pleasant.  
  
"No." She said shortly. "We ate out."  
  
Harry began wiping the dishes dry. "I shall need to go to London for my school things. I got my lists last night."  
  
Aunt Petunia grunted without commenting.  
  
"When shall I count on going, then?" He persisted.  
  
"Vernon and I will only take you to Town once. We will drive you up on August 31. You will buy your things and make your own way to the station. Perhaps they will let you sleep on a bench at the station."  
  
Harry nodded. "Thank you, Aunt Petunia."  
  
She looked a bit surprised, but then her eagle eyes noticed something that distracted her. "You need a haircut, boy."  
  
Harry pushed the hair out from behind his glasses, but it fell right back in. "I rather like it, actually. Thanks anyway."  
  
He put away the tea things and strode out the back door, whistling.  
  
Harry found Sirius crouched under the hedge. He patted the dog and spoke to him in a low voice.  
  
"I will be in Diagon Alley the day before school starts to get my things." He said in a low voice. "I will try to stay at the Leaky Cauldron if there is a room free."  
  
The dog nodded and bounded off down the road.  
  
***** 


	5. Annoyances

Inverted Enemy   
Chapter Five: Annoyances  
  
*****  
  
Disclaimer: Uh… JK Rowlings is the genius behind Harry Potter. I am an insignificant fan. Severitus provided the focus through her challenge.  
  
demonic angel – thank you  
  
t.a.g – I mix my own herbal teas like that. I especially like spearmint, rosemary, raspberry leaves and chamomile. Although I do not read the leaves when I am done.  
  
Kitala – *grins* Sirius is back. He will be around. The snake won't say much for a while. It is a baby, after all.  
  
sparrow – I'm glad you like it.   
  
sadilou – *big hug* Thanks for the reassurance.  
  
A/N – I find that the scenes from Snape's point of view are harder to write. I hope that this lives up to your expectations.  
*****  
Severus Snape scowled at the mess he had just made of the potion he was brewing. He had been adding small slivers of fillet of a fenny snake carefully, one at a time. Then, the mark on his arm had flamed hot for just a moment. The small silver plate holding them had jumped in his hand.   
  
Naturally, the contrary bits had all jumped into the brew together. He consulted his notes. Perhaps if…  
  
No, that had not worked. The evidence was the noxious smoke rising. Snape held his breath and closed his eyes while he pulled out his wand.  
  
"Aerateus" He said, careful not to inhale. He felt the rush of clean air as the ventilation charm did its work.  
  
He opened his eyes and sighed. An afternoons work completely ruined. He covered the cauldron with a gas collecting apparatus and made a note that what he had tried had not worked.   
  
Snape went to the washroom connected to his private workroom and stripped off his contaminated robes. There was no point taking chances with an unknown substance; especially one he had concocted himself.  
  
When he was sufficiently decontaminated, he returned to the workroom. The day's planned potion would have to wait till another day. He made notes on where he had been in the process and what he had done differently than he had planned.  
  
Then he settled in to do a detailed analysis of the potion he had just created. Some of the most important discoveries in the history of alchemy had been accidents.  
  
Two hours later he set down his quill and shook his head in disgust. A simple toxic substance that would probably cause burns or boils, and a gas that turned out to be far less dangerous than his caution had warranted.   
  
Snape washed his hands carefully and left the workroom. His stomach informed him loudly that it must be nearly dinner time. He left the dungeon and made his way to the Great Hall.  
  
As unsociable as he was by nature and by reputation, he preferred the dinner table to a solitary meal in his rooms. The kitchens always went to too much trouble when he ate alone.  
  
Snape glanced around as he entered. Most of his colleagues took advantage of the summer holidays to leave the castle. Flitwick, for one had only just left for a Charms conference in France.   
  
He was the first one in the room. The table was set with four settings, not the three he had expected. He wondered who had returned, but he was not left to wonder long.   
  
"Lupin!" He snarled as the werewolf entered the room.  
  
"A pleasure, as always, Snape." Lupin said with a wry half smile.  
  
Snape's nostrils flared and he suppressed a sneer. "Have you been invited to dinner?"  
  
"Actually, I have been invited to teach again." Lupin said. "I am considering it. Especially since I have received many letters from others encouraging me to take the position. I am allowing Dumbledore to have his complete say before I accept or refuse."  
  
"Well, you know I am against it," Snape glared at him. "and you know why."   
  
"Yes." Lupin agreed. "Although half of your reasons are based on misconceptions."  
  
"I do not believe that I wish to continue this conversation." Snape said. "It will not be in any way productive."  
  
"Sirius Black has never killed anyone." Lupin said. "Peter is alive and once again in the service of Voldemort."  
  
"Black came very close to murder once." Snape's voice was low. "Although, I am almost convinced of Pettigrew's part in later events." He changed the subject. "The full moon is in three days. Do you have enough Wolfsbane potion to see you through it? Or shall I brew you some?"  
  
"If you wouldn't mind doing it, I would be grateful." Lupin said. "I have been purchasing the potion, but the commercial potion is inferior to your brew."  
  
Snape raised his eyebrows. "I believe that was a compliment, Lupin."  
  
"Well, yes. It was intended to be. Hogwarts is fortunate to employ so accomplished an alchemist as Potions Master."   
  
Snape did not have a chance to replay, as Dumbledore and Mcgonagall entered at that moment.  
  
"Ah, Severus," Dumbledore said. "You must help me convince Remus here to rejoin the faculty."  
  
"Headmaster, I must protest, that I would rather see him anywhere but here." Snape replied. "A werewolf is a danger to our students."  
  
Mcgonagall shook her head and took her seat, determined to stay out of the conversation if she could.  
  
"Never mind him, Remus. Minerva…" Dumbledore began.  
  
"Why don't we drop the subject and eat our dinner instead." She offered. "I believe it will be better for the digestion if we find another topic."  
  
The three men sat and their dinner appeared before them.  
  
*****  
  
Aerateus – I took this from the word aerate (1. verb: expose to fresh air, as of old clothing 2. verb: impregnate, combine, or supply with oxygen) 


	6. Diagon Alley

Disclaimer: Come on, guys, you don't really think I own this stuff do you?  
  
sk8reagle – Glad to intrigue you.  
  
Phoenix Flight – Ah, flattery will get you… another chapter. As for naming the tea, it would be a bit hard, as every pot is slightly different. He mixes ingredients according to what seems right at the time. Eventually he will learn to refine this ability but… later.  
  
BlockingTomatoes – I sincerely apologize. I humbly admit that although I have read all four of the canonical works between six and ten times, that I had not thought to check on Petunia's hair color. I am removing the reference to it.  
  
Creamy Mimi – I'm glad you liked it.   
  
Elfmoon87 – Hello again. Is civil the right word? After all, verbal and emotional abuse leave scars on the soul. Nevertheless, Harry has learned to overcome it. At this point the Dursleys are afraid that Harry himself will do something to them. After all, he seems to be doing magic daily without repercussions. lol   
  
Them Girl – Thank you for your support. As for fortunes… Harry doesn't take them seriously… yet.  
*****  
  
Harry entered the Leaky Cauldron with his school trunk and looked around.  
  
The innkeeper bustled up. "How may I help you, sir?"   
  
"I would like a room for the night please." Harry said. He felt something was odd, then he realized that old Tom had not recognized him. He pulled out two golden coins and offered them to the man.  
  
"Yes, sir, certainly." The man levitated Harry's trunk and led the way up the stairs. "Right this way."  
  
Tom led Harry to the same room he had used two years before. Harry thanked the man, still puzzled at not being recognized.   
  
Harry laid out his night things and retrieved his school list. He was about to head for Diagon Alley when he saw his own reflection in the mirror.  
  
He stopped, shocked. He had known he was taller. He had known that his hair had been growing ever since his birthday, but he had not realized that he had changed so much. He never saw himself at Privet Drive. His room did not have a mirror, and Dudley had smashed the one in the hall bathroom in one of his fits. It was a symptom of his parent's growing displeasure that it had not been replaced.  
  
Harry's hair was now well past his shoulders. It grew unevenly in the front in a way that covered his scar without looking sloppy. It had become lighter too. He had spent a lot of time outside this summer, so perhaps the sun had affected it. He kept it in a ponytail very similar to Bill Weasely's.  
  
His face seemed to have changed subtly as well. It had always seemed to be too thin. Now his cheeks had filled out. His cheekbones were higher and his chin was rounder. His nose seemed a little longer, not as cute as it had been. Harry looked down at his hands. Even his fingers seemed longer.   
  
At least he still had his mother's eyes.  
  
He shrugged. He supposed that all this elongating must have something to do with growing up. He shook his head and left the room.  
  
Harry emerged into Diagon Alley and paused, surveying the bustle. Immediately he saw someone he knew.  
  
"Professor Lupin!" He called, rushing over to the man leaning against one of the shops.   
  
Lupin's eyes widened. He seemed to sniff the air a little. "Harry, is that really you?"   
  
"The one and only. How do you like my new look?" Harry smiled and touched his hair self consciously. "I guess I've changed a bit."  
  
"Amazing." Lupin forced his mouth to assume a more dignified expression. "Padfoot and I decided to help you shop, since you did not get to visit this summer." He gestured to the dog seated on the ground beside him.  
  
"Hello, Padfoot," Harry said, patting the dog's head. "Its Gringotts first." He said.  
  
"I think new robes had better be on your list, Harry. I don't think your old ones will be long enough." Lupin smiled at him. "You got taller over the summer."  
  
As they were leaving Gringotts, Lupin suddenly said. "Harry, I have been asked to teach at Hogwarts again."  
  
"Really?" Harry grinned. "That's great. You are the best Defense teacher we have ever had."  
  
Lupin reddened. "Apparently you are not the only person to think so. I have been getting owls from Hogwarts parents all summer. Ever since Moody turned out not to be Moody." He cleared his throat. "They are all telling me to get my bushy tail back up to Hogwarts. Several have even offered to remind me of each full moon."  
  
Harry and Lupin both laughed.  
  
"That is wonderful news." Harry said.   
  
"Yes. Quite a few of them say they remember me from our own school days. Several have said that they knew about my curse back then. The older students figured it out on their own as often as not." Lupin shook his head. "I had never realized."  
  
"Well, it makes sense if they had covered detecting werewolves in class." Harry said. "If Dumbledore seemed to know all about it, there would be no reason to mention it."  
  
Harry presented his receipt at The Reptile House and was staggered to learn the extent of Fred and George's gift. There was a full terrarium kit, including a forty gallon tank, a heating pad, a years supply of cage carpet, lights, and several hiding areas.   
  
The shopkeeper showed Harry how to transfigure the specially prepared nutrient pellets into tiny live mice.   
  
Then Harry showed her the egg. She pronounced it healthy looking and almost ready to hatch. She admonished Harry not to touch the snake for two days at least after hatching.   
  
She frowned at the size of the terrarium he was getting, and told him not to leave the baby snake in so large a space until it was older, as it might get lost.   
  
Harry purchased a great many things. Robes, books, potion supplies, food and treats for Hedwig and the largest ice cream sundae he had ever eaten.  
  
*****  
A/N – Please note that the challenge does not state that Harry must look like a carbon copy of Severus. 


	7. Interlude

Disclaimer: Aw, do I really have to do this part? Oh, all right. I do not own the Harry Potter universe. There. Happy?  
  
Creamy Mimi – Carbon gets your fingers all grimy. Most unpleasant.   
  
Phoenix Flight – Harry likes his anonymity. It always seemed strange to me that wizards everywhere seemed to recognize him on sight. Apparently, a baby snake can escape through incredibly small spaces. It could get out of the terrarium and be lost in the castle. Also, it could hide in the plants and hiding places that are part of a good terrarium and starve. *shrugs* It was in the book I read about breeding snakes.   
  
Grey Malfoy – There will be more people doing double takes when they see him. *grin*  
  
sk8reagle – Well, it is not a typical Severitus challenge fic, but I am answering the challenge. I read many of them before I had a brainstorm and started this.  
  
Darth Stitch – Hey, I like you. Lots of flattering comments. More James later, the good and the bad. I am planning to pull Severus OOC, but slowly. (coughvampirescough) *giggle*   
  
misses-nugget – Thank you. I will try to remember the e-mail thing. Fun, yes. Don't do anything that I wouldn't do twice.  
  
A/N - This Chapter does not add much in the way of excitement, not to mention being shorter than average. I just wanted to get it posted and out of the way.   
  
*****  
  
The next day, Lupin rode the underground with Harry to King's Cross Station.   
  
"I got you something as a late birthday gift, Harry. Padfoot picked it out in Flourish and Blotts yesterday. He would not tell me why this particular book. I hope you like it." He handed Harry parcel.  
  
Harry tore the paper off. "Reading the Leaves" by Rosemary Thornton.  
  
Harry looked at it in astonishment. "Thank you, Professor." Harry grinned and flipped through it. "It has a section on common herbs useful for Divination. It tells what each one is good for. Cool."  
  
Lupin shook his head. "I guess old Padfoot was right." He watched Harry flip through the book for a while. "You know, I have thought of something, Harry. You are starting to look less like James." He frowned, thoughtfully. The funny thing is you really don't look like Lily either."  
  
Harry looked at Lupin in astonishment. "But…"  
  
"No, don't mistake me." Lupin held up his hand. "You do resemble Lily, especially around the eyes. Only…" Lupin paused. "I'd say you really looked like other members of her family. Lily's mother or her cousin."  
  
"Della?" Harry asked, barely above the noise of the underground train.  
  
Lupin stiffened. "Yes, Della. I didn't think anyone would have mentioned her to you. She died just when you were born."   
  
"Oh," Harry said, slightly disappointed. "Well, no one has mentioned her, really. I ran across these in my Aunt Petunia's things." Harry pulled the book and the photograph out of his pocket.  
  
Lupin looked over the book dedication in surprise, and perhaps a little alarm. "I see. I didn't know Della, really. Can you make out this name?"  
  
"No." Harry admitted sadly. Lupin relaxed a little. "I wish I could." Harry continued. "So that I could ask them about her."  
  
"Ask Dumbledore." Lupin suggested. "He will know what to tell you."  
  
"I already have. He told me to ask Professor Snape at school."  
  
Some of Lupin's tension returned. "Yes, that might be best." He said in a strained voice.  
  
*****  
  
Snape brooded in the privacy of his own rooms. The books provided by Madame Maxine had proved more tantalizing than useful.   
  
There was a spell for the complete removal of the Mark. However, it was supposed to be preformed by the original caster of the spell. Minerva had insisted that they try it anyway, of course. It made a cute little fireworks display that knocked them both out for a few minutes.  
  
There was a history of the stratagems people had undertaken to remove allegiance oath marks; including severing the marked limb.   
  
There was a reference to a spell that was supposed to repudiate an allegiance oath, but not the spell itself.   
  
The entire business was immensely frustrating.  
  
Now the summer was over and he would soon be inundated with students. His lip curled in disgust. Then he shook his head. He /liked/ teaching. Great Merlin's beard! He wouldn't do it if he didn't like it. It was not as if he needed money.  
  
Snape sighed. He had this mental argument every year, right before the brats returned. The problem was that so few of them actually understood the subject that was his passion. It was worth suffering all those who did not in order to guide those who did. He told himself that daily.  
  
He tried to pacify his disgust with thoughts of his most promising students. He laughed out loud at the first faces that came to mind.   
  
Those blasted Weasely twins were terribly promising if they could be serious enough not to blow themselves up. Snape had given up steering them towards the respectable side of Alchemy. Now he just tried to monitor their extracurricular brewing enough to prevent permanent harm to anyone. He winced. An essay he had assigned as punishment in their second year had contributed to their delinquency more than anything else he had ever done.  
  
He forced his mind to find someone else. There was Rodney Pinkersly, a Ravenclaw fifth year. Clever and resourceful, but too focused on studying to be really creative.  
  
He dismissed Hermione Granger with scarcely a thought. She took no joy in the subject, just in being correct.  
  
Colin Creevy was promising. His love of his camera had translated into a love of developing and printing moving photographs. That had crossed over into a real desire to understand magi-chemical reactions.  
  
Snape nodded. See. He liked to teach. He even liked his students. Sometimes. When they were not blowing things up.  
  
*****  
  
A/N – Hum…Lupin knows more than he is saying. I wonder what he is hiding… Ha! As if I didn't know. *maniacal laughter*   
  
I hope you liked my digging in Severus' motivations. It seemed just a little forced to me, but… oh well.  
  
Many thanks to Sadilou Who, who is no more than two. She reads for me. 


	8. Aboard the Hogwarts Express

Disclaimer: I am not the creator. I am just an imitator.  
  
Phoenix Flight – Not corrected, just informed. Unfortunately, complex means difficult to write.   
  
Darth Stitch – Yes, Della is dead, sorry, sigh. She would be a fun character to write alive. Maybe I will, later, much later. *Gusha giggles madly at the comments she refuses to make. JKR does not have a monopoly on broad hints.* Yes, poor Neville. Lupin knows something, but he is in the dark about things as well… *more maniacal laughter*  
  
Kateri – Maybe. It seems likely, doesn't it?  
  
Kitala – Eventually. I think you guys will figure it out before Harry does.  
  
Vivian Marie – I liked that line myself. Just a little self hypnosis. Personally, I believe he must actually like to teach.  
  
sadilou – You are supposed to tell me these things before I post. *sticks out her tongue* Maybe his students just don't understand his sense of humor…  
  
Iniysa - *waves* Thank you for reviewing.  
  
*****  
  
Harry scanned the crowd for his friends, as he loaded Hedwig into the owl compartment. He turned, and nearly collided with a young witch.  
  
She looked vaguely familiar. He peered closer.  
  
"Hermione?" He asked incredulously.  
  
"Harry?" She replied, just as unbelievingly.  
  
As one, they cried, "You've changed." Then they laughed.  
  
"Wow, Hermione, you look great." Harry said, as they entered the train. Her hair was no longer frizzy or bushy. It now lay in smoothly controlled brown curls. She waved off the compliment.  
  
"Harry, you are so tall." She cried as they found an empty compartment. "And what happened to your hair?" It had lightened again, overnight, and grown two more inches.  
  
"I really have no idea." Harry admitted. He had pulled it into a ponytail at the base of his neck. He fiddled with the ends. "It just started growing one day. It grows really fast now."  
  
"It is lighter too." Hermione said. "Not blonde exactly, just lighter."  
  
"I really don't know." Harry shrugged.   
  
"And shouldn't it take forever to grow like that?" She touched the end of his ponytail. "I have been growing mine out for years."  
  
Harry shrugged again. "When it started growing, I realized that I had not cut it in about five years. It just never needed to be cut."  
  
"How fast does hair grow, anyway." Hermione said. "Mine takes longer since it is curly."  
  
"Have you seen Ron yet?" Harry asked hopeful, that he could distract her.  
  
"Not yet." She crossed to the window.  
  
"Have you heard that Professor Lupin is back to teach?" Harry asked, sitting and watching Hermione peer out at the crowd.  
  
She turned back sharply. "Even though everyone knows about him?" She asked.  
  
"Yep." Harry grinned. "I, for one, feel safer knowing he will be there. I imagine that he'll get full moon reminders from dozens of sources each month."  
  
"Um, excuse me." Came a very deep voice from the open compartment door. "Have…"  
  
"Ron!" Said Harry and Hermione together.  
  
Ron's eyes widened as he turned from one of them to the other. "Hermione? Harry?" His mouth hung open in shock. "What happened to you?"   
  
Ron still looked like himself. He was taller, and his hair was brighter than ever.  
  
"The same as happened to you." Hermione said laughing. "We grew up over the summer."  
  
"You're pretty." Ron said in an accusing tone of voice. Then he blushed hotly. "I mean…"  
  
"Quiet, mate." Harry warned. "Leave it. You'll only make it worse."  
  
That drew Ron's attention to Harry.  
  
"And you!" Ron said. "What on earth happened to you?"  
  
Harry stood, to measure his height against Ron's.  
  
"Looks like we both got taller." Harry grinned.  
  
"Your hair is almost like Bill's." Ron still gawked. "Mum would have a fit."  
  
They all sat as the train began to move. "It really started growing at the beginning of August." Harry explained. "It only started getting lighter in the past few days, at least I think so."  
  
"Its just sort of highlights, really." Hermione said. "It makes lines in your hair the way you have it pulled back."  
  
A/N: I used to think this was a really unnatural way for hair to look, until I noticed that my little sister's hair has streaks just like this.  
  
"Your face even looks different, Harry." Ron said. "I think your eyebrows might be a different shape, or something. You still look like Harry, now that I look closely, but…"  
  
Harry shrugged. "I'm still me." He pulled out the photograph and book, to distract them. "I wanted your opinion of this. I found these in a box in the cellar this summer. " He opened it to the dedication.   
  
"At the Dursley's?" Ron asked. "It is a spell book."  
  
"Who is Della?" Hermione asked, running her fingers over the inscription. "Is she related to Asphodel Maddis?"  
  
"Yes. They were the same person." Harry showed them the picture. "She was my mother's cousin. I had never heard of her. Sirius and Professor Lupin were not much help either."  
  
Ron squinted at the writing. "There is something familiar about that handwriting. I just can't make out what."  
  
"I thought so too." Harry said, shrugging. "Anyway, I thought you might like to look through it, Hermione. It is a good Charms book."  
  
"Later, I think." Hermione said. "We need to talk to catch up."  
  
"How is the egg?" Ron asked.  
  
"Looking good." Harry replied. "I had it checked over while I was in Diagon Alley yesterday." He took the magically warmed bundle out of his pocket and lifted the lid. "It should be hatching very soon."  
  
"What is that?" Hermione asked.  
  
"A python egg." Ron explained. "I got special permission from Dumbledore for Harry to keep it at school. I wanted to get something poisonous, but Mum wouldn't let me."  
  
Hermione eyed the leathery egg dubiously. "Are you sure that is a good idea?"  
  
"Of course." Ron said. "Everyone knows that Harry is a Parselmouth by now. Him having a snake won't be too odd." He grinned. "Besides, having it around might make Malfoy think twice before bothering us."  
  
"Ron." Hermione tried to sound shocked.  
  
Ron just shrugged.   
  
Harry was watching the egg, lovingly. "I think it will spend most of its time in my room, at least at first. It will be a baby when it hatches, after all."  
  
Hermione was still eying the egg suspiciously. Suddenly she gasped. "It moved!"  
  
"It has been doing that for days. The shopkeeper said that it is a good sign." He closed the little box and put it back into his robes. "She put a charm on it so it will make a noise when the baby slices through the shell."  
  
Hermione shook her head and muttered. "Boys."  
  
Ron and Harry grinned at each other.  
  
"So, did they make you a prefect yet, Hermione?" Harry asked.  
  
"Yes, actually." Hermione took her badge out of her pocket to show them. "What about you?"  
  
"No." Harry said. "I don't think I would want it anyway. I have more than enough to do."  
  
"What about you, Ron?" Hermione asked.  
  
"No. I'll try out for Quiddich, though. He looked sideways at Hermione. "You aren't going to go all queer on us the way Percy did, are you?"  
  
Hermione laughed. "Maybe. It all depends on what you are… up to."  
  
Ron and Harry groaned.  
  
*****  
  
A/N – Hermione's last line reminds me of what Snape "people might think you're – up to something."  
  
According to the gals at the hairdressers, hair grows about 1/4 an inch per month. According to what I have observed on my own head, about ½ an inch per month. So, in five years without haircuts, Harry could have from 15-30 inches of hair. lol  
  
A bit more foreshadowing… why is the handwriting familiar? *winks* 


	9. New Arrivals and Old Memories

Disclaimer: I am too lazy to write another one. Please refer to previous chapters.  
  
Felis – I am not planning to link Gwylan's world to the Severitus fic world. I imagine I will go back to Gwylan when this story is finished.  
  
Phoenix Flight – Sorry. As for changes, I distinctly remember how shocked I was to come back from the summer and discover I was no longer on eye to eye level with my best friend. Not that we changed drastically, just that a month or two can mean quite a lot.  
  
Darth Stitch - (snickersnickersnicker) I like long hair on a guy. *Drools, thinking of Bill* Can you recommend any anime/manga sites where I could see Severus? I get a bunch of book sale sites when I try to search. Do remember the snakie will be a baby. Malfoy would likely scare it. lol.   
  
Kateri – Yes. Just sarcastic enough. Remember, dramatic irony. It is fun to watch the characters grope around in the dark while you have night vision goggles. *grins and hums in an annoying fasion* The Conversation is coming up. Patience please.  
  
Sela – Thanks.  
  
Vivian Marie – yes, it is a Severitus challenge. Heheehee. Plenty of people might have sent it to her, the question is… Oh, never mind. Harry will find out next chapter anyway.  
  
jliles – Here you go…more.  
  
A/N – Thank you to all my reviewers, and shame on you who are back for more without reviewing. This part was fun to write.   
  
*****  
  
Severus Snape watched impassively as the students filed into the Great Hall. They took their places at their house tables, chattering noisily the whole time.  
  
He shifted in his seat; trying in vain to ignore the werewolf at his side.  
  
"Sort of exciting to start out another year, isn't it?" Lupin chatted cheerfully.  
  
Snape snorted wordlessly.   
  
"They sure grow up quickly. Look, there's Harry."  
  
Much to his annoyance, Snape's eyes shot to the Gryffindor table. He scanned the crowd for the boy's mop of unruly black hair, but he did not find it. He looked at Lupin who was waving merrily. He followed the werewolf's gaze and saw a tall boy waving back.  
  
He was startled into speaking. "That is Potter?" He gaped. "He looks…"  
  
"Different?" Lupin offered. "I almost didn't recognize him myself yesterday. Dumbledore sent me to help him with his shopping."  
  
Snape refused to let his mouth drop open, but he was acutely aware that he was not glaring at the boy as he usually did.  
  
"Doesn't it take years for hair to grow like that?" Snape asked.  
  
"Usually, I suppose." Lupin shrugged. "Harry said that it had been growing inches at a time all summer. Up close, he hardly looks like James at all, anymore."  
  
"No." Snape agreed vaguely. "That hair…" Della, his mind supplied, unbidden. He looks like Della. Her hair was just like that. Streaked with sunlight, he used to tell her.  
  
Snape scowled darkly and tried to force the thoughts out of his mind. The boy was related to Della. He had always known that. They had many common ancestors to inherit traits from.  
  
The beginning of the sorting provided a welcome distraction.   
  
*****  
  
"I hope they hurry with the sorting." Harry said, looking down to escape Snape's malevolent gaze. "I'm starving."  
  
"Honestly, Harry." Said Hermione in exasperation. "You gorged yourself on the train!"  
  
Harry grinned at her. "That was fully half an hour ago."  
  
Hermione shook her head.  
  
"Don't think on it, Hermione." Ginny Weasely advised serenely from across the table. "They are always like that at this age."  
  
"Look" Said Ron. "The first years. It won't be long now."  
  
While the hat was singing, Harry heard a dull clang from inside the pocket of his robes. Surprised, he pulled out the little box with the snake egg. It was hatching. Harry could see the snake's egg tooth making a horizontal slit in the material of the shell.   
  
He pulled out the larger box that he had ready. This one had a mesh lid. Harry placed the smaller box inside the bigger one and removed its walls. He was careful not to disturb the egg, which was still wrapped in protective spells.  
  
Harry watched, fascinated, as the egg tooth made another, parallel cut and then linked them. The tiny snake's head protruded from the side of the egg, and sat there, breathing for the first time. By that time, the sorting was over and Dumbledore was announcing that the Forbidden Forest was still forbidden this year.   
  
Slowly, very slowly, the snake slithered out of its egg, hissing incoherently. It was hard to make out its color or markings, as it was glistening wet with egg fluids.   
  
"Is he saying anything?" Ron asked.  
  
"Not that I can tell." Harry replied, still watching the box. "He's still a baby. Give him some time."  
  
"You sound like Hagrid with Norbert." Hermione scowled.  
  
Harry and Ron just laughed.  
  
"And I thought you were hungry." Ginny said, grinning at Hermione.  
  
"Oh, right." The boys said together.   
  
*****  
  
Snape swept out of the great hall by the back way before the last of the students had crowded out the main doors. He entered the dungeons through deserted and little used hallways and made his way to his private, ground floor, rooms.   
  
He rang the little bell on the mantle and a decrepit old house elf popped into existence beside him.  
  
"Yes, Master Severus, sir?" The old elf squeaked.  
  
"Ah, Humby, just who I wanted to see." Snape said, sinking into an armchair near the fire.  
  
"Humby is honored, sir." The elf attempted to bow, but seized his back, gasping, before he had bent forward even an inch.  
  
"Are you all right, Humby?" Snape asked, startled.  
  
"Yes, sir, master, sir." Humby gasped. "Humby is merely old, sir. The old must expect pain, sir. Humby is sorry, sir."  
  
"No." Snape countered quickly. "No need to be sorry. Just sit down and rest for a while. That is an order." Snape rose and crossed to a cabinet at one side of the room.  
  
Humby gasped. "Oh, but sir…"  
  
"An order, Humby. Sit." Snape repeated, firmly pointing to the footstool that matched his armchair.  
  
Humby sat.  
  
Snape rummaged in the cabinet and eventually found what he was looking for. He held the bottle up to the light and gently flicked it with one finger to stir the contents.  
  
Satisfied, he crossed the room to where Humby was reluctantly sitting on the footstool.  
  
"Drink this, Humby." Snape ordered, unstopping the bottle.  
  
Humby took the vessel, sniffed at it and grimaced in distaste.  
  
"Drink it all." Snape repeated, watching the elf carefully.  
  
Humby closed his eyes, held his nose and drained the bottle. He swallowed painfully and handed the bottle back to Snape.  
  
"Good. Now, I want you to rest…" Snape began.  
  
"But there is work to do, sir!" The elf squeaked in agitation.  
  
"We wouldn't want the potion to have any nasty side effects, would we?" Snape threatened.  
  
"Oh, no sir!" His eyes widened, and he grew very pale indeed.  
  
"Then rest." Snape suddenly remembered the reason he had summoned the elf to begin with. "There is one thing you can do."  
  
"Yes, sir?" asked Humby, subdued.  
  
"I have several albums of photographs. Do you know where they are?"  
  
"Why, yes, sir. Humby was instructed to take them from your sight, sir. They are in a box at Alde Crag Castle, sir."  
  
"I see. Have Plovy bring them to me, please."  
  
"At once, sir." The elf snapped his fingers and disappeared.  
  
Half an hour later, another, younger, house elf appeared. This one had the Snape Family crest embroidered on his toga like napkin. He was carrying a large stack of books.  
  
"Over here on the table, Plovy." Snape instructed, from his chair.  
  
Plovy staggered over to the low table and laid down his burden.  
  
"Is there anything else that Plovy can do for you, Master Severus, sir?" The elf asked, bowing repeatedly.  
  
"Is my father well?" Snape asked.  
  
"Some days better than others, sir." The elf squeaked, obviously agitated.  
  
"Does he give you a lot of trouble?" He persisted.  
  
"Not since you replaced his wand with a plain wooden rod, sir. Now he is not cursing the drapes and hexing his food before he eats it." Plovy said.  
  
Snape sighed. "I suppose we must count that as an improvement." He shook his head. "Has he tried to leave recently?"  
  
"No, sir. Not since the last time he got away, sir. It grieves us to see him this way, sir."  
  
Severus nodded. His father was senile, out of his mind and out of control. Unfortunately, age and dementia had not mellowed his personality in the slightest.  
  
"Thank you, Plovy, you may go."  
  
The elf bowed and popped out. Snape cast the most restricting privacy charms he knew. Nothing short of total disaster, or Humby, could disturb him now.  
  
Snape spread the photo albums out on the table. He arranged them chronologically and opened the last one.  
  
Tears filled his eyes as the images took him back in time.  
  
*****  
  
A/N - Well, another odd insight into the Gusha version of Snape's mind. Interesting.  
  
La la la la La  
  
(Gusha would like to draw attention to the apparent multiple personalities evident in her author notes. Don't worry, we're not crazy. Usually.)  
  
Must I really beg for reviews at the end of each chapter in order to get large amounts of them? Sigh. 


	10. An Uncomfortable Interview

Disclaimer: See previous chapters.  
  
A/N – Well, here we are, at it again. Here is another chapter. Chapter 10 already… interesting.  
  
I have had a horrible day. I hope your exams go well, and that you are not locked out of your house, and that you don't develop a sinus headache that makes you forget all of the dates for your art history class. Yes, well, anyway…  
  
Bogan – Thank you.  
  
Sela – Yes, indeed, very interesting.  
  
Kateri – Here you go. This should help.  
  
litine – Cute little snakie baby. hehehe  
  
Bleu Moon – I think lots of people are reading. My hit counts are huge. I need feedback if I'm going to improve, that's all. Yeah, I know, preaching to the choir. Definitely more Della coming right up. I believe I got the idea for the title partially from 'Primary Inversion,' the title of a wonderful hard SF novel by Catherine Asaro. Plus when a tarot card or rune stone is upside down it is considered inverted or reversed. *shrugs*  
  
Them Girl – That is one of my favorite lines too. My Grampy was a wonderful man with a terrific sense of humor. Even when he was almost gone, his personality shone brightly through.  
  
Corgi – Gusha is grateful that you like her writing and our sense of…something. Sanity?  
  
Kari - *waves merrily* Hello again. I don't mind that you don't review every chapter. You are reviewing, that is enough. I'm glad you like the show…er…story, right. Shhh. Don't say that sort of thing too loud, the characters might hear you, and they don't know yet. Shhh. *winks*  
*****  
  
Harry slowed his movements as the rest of his classmates hurried to leave the year's first torturous Potions class. Ron and Hermione paused to wait for him.  
  
"Go on to lunch." He told them. "I won't be far behind."  
  
Ron shrugged. Hermione looked as if she wanted to say something. Then she shook her head and shepherded Ron out.  
  
Harry packed up his things slowly. When he was the last student in the room, he approached the Potion Master's desk.  
  
"Excuse me, sir." He began.  
  
"What is it, Potter?" Snape looked down his long nose at the boy. "I have things to do."  
  
Harry paused, apparently a moment too long.  
  
"Well, have you forgotten what you were going to say?" Snape asked scathingly.  
  
"No." Harry said. "It is just that I, well, Sirius said to ask Dumbledore. But Dumbledore told me to talk to you."  
  
"Oh?" Snape's eyebrows rose. "About what, Potter? I haven't got all day."  
  
"About my mother's cousin Della." Harry finally said.   
  
Snape visibly deflated. He sank back into his chair and closed his eyes. "Della." He murmured.  
  
Harry stood in silence, waiting for him to say more.  
  
Snape's eyes flashed open, and he looked at Harry once more. "Well, if there is one topic I would rather avoid at all costs, that is it." The corner of his mouth twitched as if it were trying vaguely to move either up or down.  
  
"Still," He continued. "If anyone has a right to ask me about her, it is you. Lily and Della were very close."  
  
Snape stopped suddenly and looked around. "This is not the place for this conversation. Come with me. I will order us some lunch from the kitchen while we talk."  
  
Harry, very surprised, returned to his desk to gather his things.  
  
"This way, Potter." Snape swept out of the classroom, and Harry followed, trying to tuck a last quill into his bag.  
  
To Harry's surprise, Snape did not lead him further into the dungeons. They climbed a small flight of stairs that Harry had never seen before. It ended in a blind landing. There was a single door sized painting squarely at the top of it.  
  
It was not a portrait. In fact, it was unlike any painting Harry had ever seen in the wizarding world. It was full of moving, twisting, amorphous shapes; they undulated gracefully around a central, spiral like pillar. It was eerie, sad.  
  
"Do you like it?" Snape asked, suddenly.  
  
"I don't know." Harry replied, staring at it intently.   
  
"Well, that is honesty, at least." Snape seemed amused. "Stand aside, Potter. I need to be directly in front of it."  
  
Harry stepped back. Professor Snape stood squarely in front of the painting and stared into it. Slowly, the movement of the painting altered. A deep red circle rose to the surface of the picture plane. It took the position of a doorknob. Snape tapped it lightly with the first two fingers of his right hand. The painting swung outward and Snape led Harry inside.  
  
"I don't suggest that you try that." Snape warned. "It is more difficult than it looks. Dumbledore knows the trick of it, but I like my privacy."  
  
"Yes, sir." Harry agreed.  
  
"Right, leave your things by the door and have a seat." Snape crossed to the fireplace and rang the little bell sitting there.  
  
Harry looked around the room. If he had been asked what Professor Snape's sitting room would be like, Harry would never have described this room.   
  
Harry entered the room slowly, trying to take it all in.   
  
The room was bright and sunny. There was no sign of alchemical equipment anywhere. The green drapes were tied back to admit the view of a sunny courtyard. Books lined one wall. A tall cabinet dominated another.   
  
It was a very masculine room, comfortable without clutter.  
  
An overstuffed armchair with a matching footstool sat near the fireplace. A sofa and chairs sat in an intimate arrangement about a low table. There were no photographs displayed. On the mantle sat a row of books, propped up by bookends made of matching pieces of a large geode.   
  
Hung above the mantle was a large abstract painting. This one was more peaceful than the one guarding the door. It had lazy, horizontal compositional lines. It was clear that the room had been decorated to complement this painting. It was mainly blues and greens, in contrast to the warmer colors of the guardian painting. It waved slightly, as if stirred by a breeze or a gentle current.   
  
Harry sat gingerly on one of the chairs, still looking around.  
  
A very old looking house elf appeared in answer to the summons of the little bell. Snape knelt on one knee so he was almost on eye level with the elf.   
  
"Lunch for two, please, Humby."  
  
"Certainly, Master Severus." The elf replied.  
  
"How are your joints, Humby." He asked.  
  
"Master is too kind to Humby." The elf said solemnly. "Humby is doing very well after the potion, sir. The potion is working very well."  
  
"I am very glad to hear that, Humby." Snape said. "It will wear off in a few days. I am ordering you to tell me as soon as it does."  
  
The elf wrinkled his nose, bowed and popped out of the room.  
  
Snape stood and turned towards Harry, glaring.  
  
"Try to pretend that you did not witness that, if you please. It would quite ruin my reputation if it were generally known that I am…" He grimaced, as if completely disgusted with the word he was preparing to use. "Kind to house elves, small children and dumb animals."  
  
Harry, who was sitting with his mouth hanging open, stuttered. "Of course, sir." He swallowed. "I have only seen evidence for the first, in any case."  
  
"Cheek, Potter, sheer cheek." Snape began pacing the room, and then seemed to change his mind. He sat abruptly in the chair opposite to Harry.  
  
"Where to begin?" Snape fidgeted with the cuff of his sleeve. "Della was a year younger than me. A year behind me in school." Snape changed tactics suddenly. "How did you hear about her, anyway? I can't imagine Lily's sister bringing her up."   
  
"You knew Aunt Petunia?" Harry was again startled by the revelation.  
  
"Of course, unpleasant girl." He curled his lip in distaste. "I didn't know her well, but we met from time to time."  
  
Harry took Della's book from his pocket and offered it for Snape's perusal. "I found this in Aunt Petunia's cellar."   
  
Snape's jaw dropped. He blinked and stared at the book. Then he laughed, a short, harsh sound. "How the past haunts us." He murmured, not taking the book. "Let me guess, it says good luck on your N.E.W.T.s, and don't study too hard."  
  
Harry looked at the book in his outstretched hand. "Yes, how…"  
  
"Come now, Potter. I gave it to her. I should remember what I wrote." Snape took the book from Harry's drooping hand and opened it. He touched the words.  
  
"Della, my flower… and she wrote her whole name here to tease me. Asphodel. How she hated that name. Her father's idea of a joke, I believe. It was a tradition along the maternal line in your family to name the daughters for flowers. Muggles of course. I only knew as far back as Della's grandmother. Jasmine Reece had two daughters, Daisy who married Herbert Evans, not a bad man for a Muggle, and Hyacinth who married Dugan Maddis, a wizard of quite good family. Daisy and Herbert had two daughters, Lily and Petunia, who you know of, I believe." Snape lifted a brow at Harry who just nodded. "Hyacinth and Dugan had a daughter, who they named Asphodel."  
  
Harry opened his mouth as if to say something, but he closed it again and waited.  
  
"I know, enough genealogy already." He stood suddenly and crossed to the fireplace. He plucked a book off the mantle and returned to his seat.  
  
"I was not a cheerful sort, even as a child. I had… a difficult childhood. Especially after my mother died when I was five. Della… She could have made a stone laugh. She had a voice like an angel. In fact, she was singing the first time I met her. She was always happy. Her very presence lit up a room like a sunbeam." He shook his head. "We were opposites in many ways. For some reason, which I have never quite figured out, she decided I was worthy to be her friend. I suppose she may have felt sorry for me, at least at first."  
  
"Master Severus?" Squeaked a voice from near the fireplace, Humby had returned. "Lunch is served, sir." The old house elf snapped his fingers and the low table between their chairs was suddenly full of food. There was hardly room for their plates. The dishes looked much fancier than the normal mid week luncheon, and Harry gawked a bit.  
  
"Thank you, Humby," Snape said, suppressing a sigh. "You have outdone yourself again."  
  
The elf bowed again and disappeared.  
  
"Dig in, Potter. We are obliged to eat at least half." Snape eyed the variety. "It would not do to insult Humby. It would make him unbearable for weeks."  
  
"Sir?" Harry asked.  
  
"Humby is my elf. He came with me when I moved here permanently. He has known me my whole life. He has his ways." Snape began filling his plate. "Come now, Potter, don't all boys your age have a hollow leg to fill? Eat up."   
  
Snape opened the book he had retrieved from the mantle. "This was us." He showed Harry a moving photograph.   
  
Harry saw a dark boy in a Slytherin uniform and a girl in Ravenclaw colors. She was looking up at the boy, laughing. He wore a half smile and an attempt at a skeptical look. Harry's eyes were drawn to the girl's hair.  
  
"It looks just like mine does now." He said, touching the top of his head. "Hers was much lighter when she was younger." Harry pulled his photograph from his pocket and handed it to Snape.  
  
Snape stared at the motionless picture in astonishment. "Would you mind if I had this copied? If I can get it to move I will make you a copy as well."  
  
"Sure." Harry agreed.  
  
Snape's eyes grew distant again. "I loved Della as I have loved very few people in my life." He said. Harry seemed to be about to say something, but Snape waved him silent. "When I left school I went to work for an alchemy firm in Edinburgh. I built a life, independent of my father; which has always been important to me. A year later, Della graduated as well and we married." He smiled softly, but it faded.   
  
"When we had been married for some time, I was drawn into the worst mistake of my life, by people I thought were my friends." He looked Harry in the eyes and added. "Do not think that I was tricked into anything. What Voldemort was promising seemed to be what I wanted at the time." He shook his head sadly.  
  
"Della could see more clearly. She did not like what I had become. She left me within a year. I searched everywhere I could think of, but I could not find her. I started to turn to those that I thought were my friends. However, I realized quickly that I there was not one of them who I wanted in the same room as my wife." His expression showed his anguish, and Harry looked away from the intensity.  
  
"So, I turned instead to the kindest, most trustworthy man I knew, Albus Dumbledore." Snape pushed the food around his plate more than he ate. "Dumbledore found her quickly. He told me that she had gone into hiding under a Fidelus Charm. One specifically keyed to keep her secrets against me."  
  
Snape's jaw tensed as he clenched his teeth tightly. However, he went on. "Dumbledore informed me that she did not want to see me and that I should respect that. It was not easy for me to accept." He sat back in his chair and fell silent for a moment.  
  
Harry kept eating.  
  
"I became a spy for Dumbledore, deliberately placing myself in more danger than necessary on more than one occasion. I am convinced now that I succeeded for so long because I was so fearless. Not even Voldemort understood that sort of drive. He expected a spy to always be fearful of discovery. I think there were times that I would have welcomed it." His mouth twisted.  
  
"I began writing to Della. I asked Dumbledore to deliver the letters. I do not know if she ever read them. For all I know, she burned them unread. She could be incredibly stubborn. I believe that she was living with Lily. They were always close." Snape shrugged. "Under the Fidelus Charm I could have searched their house while she stood and watched me. I never went near it."  
  
"I heard through Dumbledore that she was expecting my child. A few months later I was told that she and the baby had both died; complications in childbirth. I threw myself even harder into my work, both in alchemy and as a spy." His mouth twisted unpleasantly.  
  
"Then Voldemort fell. Due to you. All of the meaning in my life disappeared in an instant. I was arrested and put on trial. Dumbledore's testimony kept me from Azkaban, but I was not always grateful. The Alchemy firm would not take me back, even after I was acquitted. Something about honor and disgrace."  
  
He paused and sipped from his glass. "I became a teacher. I do enjoy it, by the way – most of the time. Potions are my remaining passion. Without them…"  
  
Snape looked at Harry again. "Then you came to the school. Oh how I resented even the sight of you."  
  
"Why, sir?" Harry asked.  
  
Snape stared intently at Harry. It was almost the malevolent glare Harry was so used to.   
  
"You see, you lived."  
*****  
  
A/N – This line was in my head almost from the very beginning of my conceptualization of this story. I had always intended to leave it as a cliffhanger. Would that be too cruel?  
  
Good!  
  
Muhuhu hahaha  
  
*I am forced to squelch Gusha's maniacal streak.*  
  
Ooph, Gusha feels slightly deflated, and will now cry in the corner. No, she is still feeling too evil to cry! 


	11. Continuation

Disclaimer: JK Rowlings came up with it, Severitus issued the Challenge, Gusha did the writing, I just...well, never mind.  
  
A/N – Did you really think we were that cruel? Well, maybe Gusha is. I, on the other hand, am the sweetest, kindest most generous person in the world. OK, maybe not. Whatever. Gusha is the crazy one. At least I am perfectly sane. *nods decisively*  
  
*****  
"Um, I…" Harry started, his hand unconsciously heading towards his scar.  
  
"I'm not talking about Voldemort, boy." Snape shook his head impatiently. "Do you realize that you were born the same week that Della died giving birth to your stillborn cousin?"  
  
"No, I didn't know." Harry said, eyes wide.  
  
Snape forced himself to relax into his chair. "No. You were an infant at the time. Newborn. It was irrational to resent you, but I never claimed to be truly rational." He frowned and focused on a spot behind Harry.   
  
They were both silent for a few more moments before Snape spoke again. "So, Potter, now you know more about my private life than I would have liked anyone to know. If you have any respect for me at all, please keep my secrets as if they were your own."  
  
"Um…" Harry began.  
  
"What? No secrets between you, Granger and Weasley?" Snape grinned, a truly horrible flash of teeth. "I do not suppose that I would really expect you to. At your age and in your place, I believe that I would have run right to Della. Fine, as if they were your own. Just don't let the whole school know."   
  
Snape turned to his food, and applied himself heartily to it.  
  
They sat in silence, eating and contemplating the words that had passed between them.   
  
"Last year, after the last task, Dumbledore sent you off." Harry said, not looking up. "Are you spying on Voldemort again?"  
  
Snape laughed, a genuine, if frightening, sign of amusement. "No, not at all. Voldemort would kill me on sight and ask questions later. I have reason to believe that he distrusted me even before you defeated him. Dumbledore's testimony in my very public trial only confirmed those suspicions. I believe that I must be very high on his list of people to kill." He sighed almost wistfully. "Besides, I am no longer the reckless young man that I was."  
  
Snape took another bite, chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before continuing. "My mission for Dumbledore was something else entirely. I believe that he does not wish you to know about it."  
  
The clock in the corner chimed. Snape surveyed the table. He gestured towards the almost empty dishes.  
  
"Good work, Potter, but you had better get to your next class."  
  
Harry stood and gathered his things. "Thank you, sir."  
  
"Potter." Snape called as Harry neared the door. "Do not expect my attitude towards you to change." He warned.  
  
"No, sir." Harry smiled. "I wouldn't expect it."  
  
Snape scowled. "And don't do that. You look like her when you smile."  
  
Harry bit his lip and ducked out the door.  
  
*****  
  
Directly after dinner that night, Harry looked at his two best friends and said:  
  
"Ron, Hermione, would you care to join me in the library?"  
  
Ron looked like he was going to protest that they had not been given any homework all day, but Hermione elbowed him in the ribs.  
  
"Of course." She said. "You can show us the book you were talking about earlier." She glared at Ron.  
  
"What?" Ron asked. "Oh, right." He added quickly. Harry suspected that Hermione might have stepped on his toes.  
  
Harry glanced up at the head table as they left the Great Hall. Snape was staring at him. He nodded slightly at Harry, who nodded back as he turned to follow his friends.  
  
Half way to the library, Harry led his friends in an unexpected turn. They ended up in an odd, out of the way room.   
  
"Hey, I remember this place." Ron said. "Didn't there used to be a mirror over there? A funny looking one?"  
  
"Yes." Harry agreed. "Dumbledore moved it."  
  
"What is it, Harry?" Hermione asked. "Where were you at lunch."  
  
"I had lunch with Snape in his rooms." Harry said, ignoring his friend's gasps. "I learned quite a bit about my mum's cousin Della." He launched into an abbreviated account of what Snape had told him.   
  
"Weird." Ron said when he had finished. "Hard to imagine Snape happily married."  
  
"You didn't hear him tell it." Harry said. "Oh, and Hermione, If you ever get the urge to concentrate on house elf rights again, I suggest you have a long conversation with Snape on the subject. I think you will find that he has some interesting insights."  
  
"What is that supposed to mean?" Ron asked. Hermione was silent.  
  
"Nothing in particular." Harry said shrugging. They sat silently for a few minutes.  
  
"Hermione?" Harry continued, played with the end of his ponytail. "Do you know anything about abstract wizard paintings?"  
  
"Not much." Hermione said, surprised.  
  
"Well," Ron said. "All I really know about them is that they have been known to drive people insane. Oh, and portraits too. They are usually strongly warded to protect other paintings from them. Why?"  
  
"Snape has one guarding his private rooms." Harry said. "And another one over his fireplace."  
  
"Odd." Ron said. "I don't think there are many in Britain at all. There have never been many British abstract painters in the wizarding world. We prefer portraits as a culture." Ron shook his head. "They could be by foreign artists."  
  
"You know the oddest trivia, Ron." Hermione said.  
  
"You're a good one to talk, Hermione." Ron scowled. "There was Maura Thornton, back before we were born. Do you suppose they might be hers?"  
  
"I honestly have no idea." Harry said. "Thornton sounds familiar, though…"  
  
"Let's go to the library." Hermione said suddenly.  
  
Ron groaned, and Harry said, "Can't, Hermione. I need to look in on my snake baby."  
  
"Has it said anything yet?" Ron asked, suddenly animated.  
  
"Hungry." Harry grinned. "She very distinctly said hungry."  
  
"Boys." Muttered Hermione as they parted in the hallway.  
  
*****  
  
A/N – Ah, we now know some very interesting things. Hehehehe.  
  
Review please. I would like it a lot. We would like it a lot.  
  
Oh, no! Look! Gusha's got a gun. No, it is just a water pistol. 


	12. Post from the Past

Disclaimer: JKR has the entire claim. I have none. I would not presume to write in her universe if I had not read that she is flattered by all of us fanfic writers.  
  
Bleu Moon – It is unfortunate that I have no real experience with snakes. Yes to most of your questions. The paintings are important. La la la la La.   
  
MadMonkette – Gusha is highly amused.   
  
Kateri – Sorry. Frustrating? Possibly? *insane laughter – followed by a whisper: Shut up, Gusha* Aw, they figure it out pretty quick now.   
  
sandtr – Sorry, Della really is dead.   
  
palanmenel – I'd tell you, but that would ruin the painfully drawn out suspense. I almost wish I hadn't told everyone that this is a Severitus challenge fic. It would have played with y'all's minds more. Sigh.  
  
Sela – Yes, I am rather brilliant, am I not. *Shut up, Gusha* We just don't really like the Sev/Lily pairing really…  
  
Them Girl – Not to appear techno-illiterate, but what is QWOH? Glad you like my Sev.  
  
Littletiger – Thank you for being willing to slip the negative criticism in with the positive. I'm glad you liked the sitting room. It was difficult to write, although I knew just what I wanted. *Sigh*  
  
davesmom – Intriguing is right. Thank you for your stories. Hey you people reading all these acknowledgement thingies, check out this gal's stuff. (Since you seem to have so much time on your hands.)  
  
Harmoni – No one, it has to be spelled out for them. *nods*  
  
Thank you to MarsIsBrightTonight, Mikee, Enahma, samson, pixyfairy120, kateydidnt, and Sparrow for reviewing. It means a lot to me. *Brushes happy tear from eye*  
  
A/N – Almost a whole page, yikes. Now for the chapter. Er…right.  
  
*****  
Severus Snape,   
You are hereby informed that your presence is required at a special, delayed reading of the last will and testament of Miss Asphodel Maddis. The reading will take place at Hogwarts, in the Headmaster's office, at 6:30 PM on the twenty first of October.  
Sandman and Ross  
Attorneys at Law  
  
Snape read and re-read the letter in a state of shock. After all these years, Della was reaching out from beyond the grave to touch him again and again.  
  
He folded the letter and placed it in the pocket of his robes.  
  
His eyes strayed in Potter's direction. Potter was looking straight back at him. The boy held up a slip of parchment, alarmingly similar to the one he had just tucked away.   
  
Snape nodded slightly and then looked away. Of course, the boy would be there too.   
  
Snape had grown to dread the boy's potions lessons. It was entirely too disconcerting to see him with Della's hair, Lily's eyes and James Potter's general features. Although, he admitted, lately the boy had grown to look more like 'Harry' and less like 'James.'  
  
Snape touched his pocket and the letter inside crinkled. Three days and they would see what Della wanted to say from beyond the grave.  
  
*****  
  
"What is it, Harry?" Hermione asked shrewdly as Harry pushed his breakfast around his plate.  
  
Harry shrugged and handed her the solicitor's letter.  
  
"Della Maddis has been dead since before you were born. Why would she write you into her will?" Hermione asked.  
  
"I donno." Harry mumbled. "Snape said that she and my mum were close. Maybe she left something to Mum that will be passed on to me."   
  
Harry put the letter back away, and turned to his breakfast.   
  
Harry found himself enormously unwilling to bring his divination to the breakfast table.   
  
At Privet Drive, it was a joke on his relatives, here at school, where people took magic seriously… Well, Harry still had trouble admitting to himself that his teacup predictions were worth paying attention to, and he did not want to have to defend them in public.   
  
Instead he kept his things in his room. The first evening back, Harry left a note asking the house elves to leave a kettle of hot water on his desk in the morning. Every morning since, water had been waiting for him. When he was running low on spearmint leaves, the jar was suddenly filled again.   
  
Harry made it a point to rise early enough to make the tea leaves part of his morning ritual. It was soothing and relaxing to go through all of the motions. It focused his mind to concentrate on the day.  
  
That was important, because the teachers were being even harder on them than last year. Scarcely a day went by without one teacher or another mentioning the O.W.L.'s.  
  
He got plenty of odd looks from his dorm mates when he first set the jars, mortar and teapot out. Ron had been the one to mention it. Harry had just shrugged and grinned. They had all gotten used to it.  
  
"Do you have the snake with you, Harry?" Ron asked.  
  
"No, she doesn't say much more than hungry and sleepy yet." Harry said. "I thought she would be more comfortable in my room until she understands more. The book says to handle her as little as possible."  
  
"Have you named that snake yet, Harry?" Hermione asked.   
  
"Not yet." Harry admitted. "I hoped she would give a little input into her name, since I can talk to her, but her speech is so juvenile…"  
  
"You could give her a flower name." Hermione suggested. "It is a family tradition, after all."  
  
"That's a good idea." Harry said. "I'll have to give it some thought. So, Hermione, do you think that we will have to transfigure a person for our O.W.L.'s?"  
  
Nothing could have been more effective in changing the subject.  
*******  
(I) (I)  
(;o;)  
(,( ),)Plot Bunny  
(,,)-(,,)  
  
A/N – Well, this certainly came out different than I had originally planned it. Darned plot bunnies. I thought about making this two chapters, but I like this next part better than the first bits.  
  
*******  
  
On the Twenty first of October, Harry presented himself at Dumbledore's office. The Headmaster was there, along with Professor Snape and a short balding wizard that Harry took to be the solicitor. The three men were standing near the door when he entered.  
  
"Harry Potter?" The little man said. "How wonderful to meet you at last, I must say. I am Marcus Ross; I will be presenting the will this evening. If we could all sit down, I will set up my equipment, and then we can begin."  
  
"Equipment?" Harry asked, sitting in the chair Dumbledore motioned him to.  
  
"Before the will, we will have a presentation of memory recordings." Mr. Ross said, opening his briefcase on the low table Dumbledore had placed in front of the group of chairs. "Not customary, but not unusual either." The man hummed as he fitted together the odd pieces of something. It looked like a piece of alchemical apparatus, lots of glass tubes and wire springs.   
  
The man finished and turned back to the others. "I must ask that you remain quiet during the recordings. The memory will project in the air just here." He waved his hand over the machine. He took a silver cube out of a small wooden box and placed it in a tube on the apparatus.   
  
Immediately, the memory machine lit with undulating colors and within a few seconds a picture appeared where Mr. Ross had indicated it would. Harry gasped. It was his parents, Lily and James Potter.  
  
They both smiled, they looked at each other and then Lily spoke.  
  
"Dearest Harry, you are the joy in our life. We love you very much." Harry was aware of Snape shifting uncomfortably in the seat beside him, but he concentrated entirely on his mother's face.   
  
"James and I are recording this as a preface to my cousin Della's will. The two of us have discussed the topic exhaustively, and James has /finally/ agreed to do this the way Della planned it. Not to say that I fully agree with her, but I know what she wants and why. Even if we are alive and sitting next to you when you see this, you will hear it from this recording, not from us directly." She looked at James again, quickly then turned back. Harry felt she was staring right at him. "We only ask that you listen."  
  
"First, Harry, you are not our son."  
  
James broke in. "Not biologically, at least. Never doubt that we love you as we would our own child."  
  
Lily placed her hand on her husband's arm. She continued. "We are infertile, Harry. There is nothing Muggle or magical medicine can do to change that for us. You could not be our biological son. We adopted you the day after you were born, and you have been our son ever since." James shifted and opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but Lily caught his eye and he relaxed again.   
  
"Your mother wanted everyone to believe that you were really my son. She convinced me, after weeks of discussion and argument to pretend to be pregnant while she was." Lily's face was sad, but she smiled faintly. "It was the greatest gift anyone has ever given me. While we were in the same house I could feel her pregnancy as if it was happening to me. I felt your every kick and punch. I had given up hope of feeling those things for myself."  
  
"Including the morning sickness," James broke in again. "which Della was spared, by the way."  
  
Lily made a face at her husband and continued. "Della did extensive research on charms, transfigurations and potions that would disguise you. She was determined that you would look like James and me instead of your real father and herself. I do not claim or pretend to understand why she was so insistent, but I know she had reasons."   
  
Harry heard Snape growl softly beside him and turned slightly. The man was unbelievably tense. For half a second they looked each other in the eye. Then Lily continued, drawing their attention.  
  
"What we did not expect or plan on was that Della died while giving birth to you. We continued with the adoption, according to her terms."  
  
"Frankly, I was against it." James broke in. "As of right now, you have a living parent. A father, the man your mother married. I have argued and fought with Lily and our lawyers, but Della's intentions and her will are clear and legally binding. So, I will hold my peace for now."  
  
"James." Lily said softly. He nodded and she continued. "We changed your appearance. The disguise should be wearing thin by now. Until this is shown, I will be maintaining it slightly, but most of it should last until the appointed day. Now you are fifteen. I am sure that you have grown into a fine young man with James' example. We love you, Harry. There is no way we could love you more. Now listen with an open heart to what Della has to say."   
  
James and Lily smiled again and faded out.  
  
*****  
  
A/N – I apologize for the first two sections. *winces* I do not feel they are up to standard, but anyway.   
  
Argh. Especially all the awkward exposition in the second segment. Anybody got any flower names fit for a snake? 


	13. In which painful things are revealed

A/N – Well, I just had to double post again. It was necessary. What it means is that soon you will have at least a week of waiting between chapters. I need to type, organize and edit. I am still hoping to be done before OotP comes out. Maybe.  
  
*****  
  
Mr. Ross stood and pulled the cube out of the reader.   
  
He looked around at Harry. "Are you all right, boy?"   
  
"Fine thanks." Harry looked up at Professor Snape. Their eyes caught Harry could see his own shock, confusion and anger reflected in the older man's gaze. It was clear that the implications were not lost on either of them "You?"   
  
"Well enough." Snape said, breaking eye contact. He turned to Dumbledore and raised an inquiring brow.   
  
Dumbledore was sitting serenely, if sadly. "I have no comment to make." He said. "Shall we continue?"  
  
"Right" Said Ross quickly.  
  
"You knew at least part of this, Dumbledore, didn't you." Snape said, his voice sounding dangerous.  
  
"If I did, I could not have told you, Severus." Dumbledore looked squarely at Snape. "At Della's insistence there were stronger spells placed around this secret than are around the making of the Philosopher's Stone."  
  
Snape broke eye contact again. He glanced at Harry and then down at his clenched fists. He took a deep breath and forced himself to relax into his chair. "Continue."  
  
Mr. Ross plucked another memory cube out of the wooden box and placed it in the machine.  
  
A heavily pregnant woman appeared where James and Lily Potter had been. She had long, light brown hair, streaked with sunshine blonde highlights. Her eyes were kindly, but lines of worry wrinkled her mouth. Her hands rested protectively on her belly.  
  
"I, Asphodel Maddis Snape, being sound of mind and body, do hereby repudiate my husband, Severus Thornton Snape. I say hereby that he is not my husband. He has no claim, not on me, nor on my unborn child, nor on anything that is mine."  
  
"Witnessed." Said a voice that sounded very much like Lily Potter  
  
"Witnessed." "Witnessed." Came two more, unidentified voices.  
  
Harry glanced in Snape's direction. The man looked as if he had been physically struck. Harry watched as the shock faded into bleak despair. His attention was called back to the recording as Della spoke once more.  
  
"I, Asphodel Maddis, give my permission to Lily Evans Potter and her husband James Potter to adopt my child as soon as he or she is born. There are several conditions placed on this consent. First, that they never disclose my child's parentage to anyone. This includes, but is not limited to, Severus Snape, my child's biological father."  
  
She drew in a long ragged breath. "Second, Lily and James are to disguise the child's appearance so that he or she does not resemble his true parents. Third, that they love my child as I do now."  
  
"Fourth," She looked troubled and her right hand traced a small pattern on her belly. "My fourth condition is that on my birthday, when my child is fifteen years old, Lily and James are to inform my child of his or her heritage. They are to introduce him or her to Severus Snape."  
  
The chorus of "Witnessed" repeated, but the recording continued.  
  
"My child, I solemnly wish to be wrong about your father. However, I refuse to let my feelings for him overcome what I feel would be best for you. I do not want you to grow up under the shadow of what he has become." A single tear fell unheeded down her cheek.  
  
"Child, I want you to get to know Severus. Then, I want you to choose whether you will accept him as your father or repudiate him as I have done. Bear in mind that I am not asking you to choose between the Potters and Severus. I want you to remember that Lily and James love you, and will always love you. They are your parents. Never doubt they want you.   
  
"All I am asking you to do is make an effort to know your biological father. Talk to him. Listen to his responses. Try to see in him the person that I once thought I loved." She smiled softly and her image faded.  
  
Ross stood again and removed the second block from the viewer.  
  
He cleared his throat. "Well…erm…Indeed. This is one of the oddest cases my firm has ever administered. However, I am sure you will find that everything has been carried out according to my client's wishes. Now for the reading of the actual will."  
  
He made another odd sound in his throat and picked up a roll of parchment. He broke the seal and unrolled it.  
  
"I, Asphodel Maddis, hereby bequeath all of my possessions to my son or daughter, as yet unborn. These things are to be delivered upon my own birthday in the fifteenth year after the birth of my child, or when I die, should I live longer."   
  
The solicitor looked up from the parchment and gestured to the trunk beside his chair.  
  
"This trunk and its contents were deemed to be the extent of the bequest when my client died. Does anyone present dispute this?" Ross peered around.  
  
"I do." Snape had been silent up until this point. "There is also a small property a few miles from here. It was bought in her name. That should also belong to the boy."  
  
"Ah." Said the little man. "Fascinating. Very well, let me know the details and I will see to it."  
  
Snape nodded.  
  
"In the meantime, Mr. Potter, the trunk is yours."  
  
Harry did not know what to say. The whole presentation had taken less than an hour. In that time, his whole life had shattered and reformed around him. He looked over at Snape. He found that Snape was gazing steadily back at him.   
  
"Well, Potter, I suppose we should talk." Snape said, emotionlessly.  
  
"Erm…" The lawyer began. "I'll just go, shall I? I will be in touch about that property you mentioned."  
  
Snape nodded at the man.  
  
Dumbledore stood as well. "I'll see you out."  
  
*****  
  
A/N – The next piece will be up in a few days… most likely… unless I am compleately sidetracked. 


	14. More Uncomfortable Dialogue

Disclaimer – Well, Gusha may be delusional enough to believe some of this belongs to her, but I know better. All rights belong to JK Rowlings and whoever bought them from her.  
  
A/N - All right, new format. I'm going to answer the reviews in without citing the specific questions/reviewers. If lots of people complain, I'll return to the previous format.   
  
We will find out what Lupin knows in the next chapter, I promise.   
  
Yeah, poor little Sevie-poo, that little display was worse than being served with divorce papers. I guess we are just sadistic.   
  
Was it really such a cliffhanger? It seemed like the logical place to stop. Two of the players stepped off, the next scene being the remaining two discussing…   
  
Thank you to everyone who complimented me on our brilliance. We shine radiantly. (Yeah, sure, whatever, Shut up, Gusha)  
*****  
  
"I imagine this must be a bit of a shock, Potter…Harry." Snape said, not breaking eye contact.  
  
"More than a bit, actually." Harry countered. "It does explain the sudden changes in appearance, though." He ran his fingers through the end of his ponytail.  
  
Snape nodded mutely.  
  
"I'm trying to figure out if I mind, and whether I'm crazy for feeling so little at the moment." Harry shook his head.  
  
"Not crazy. Just in shock." Snape diagnosed. "Quite an understandable reaction. I find I am rather in shock myself."  
  
Harry looked around the room, trying to think of what to say.  
  
Snape filled the silence. "She was stubborn, my Della." He said. "She had good reasons to do what she did. I…" He swallowed heavily. "I just didn't realize how much she hated me. To formally repudiate me like that…" He caught Harry's eye. His face was open and painful. "It hurts most to know that I deserved it." Snape closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair.  
  
Harry was quiet a moment longer, then he spoke slowly. "I think she was trying to protect me, but I do not think she hated you."  
  
Snape's eyes opened.  
  
Harry pressed on. "I think she must have loved you, even at the very end."  
  
"Why do you say that?"  
  
"She had enough faith in you to insist that I give you a chance. Dumbledore has faith in you as well. I trust his judgment. I am…" He paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "Willing to make an effort if you are."  
  
"Are you sure? I am not exactly an ideal role model." Snape said wryly.  
  
"No, you're not. You have bullied me from the moment we met. I am quite convinced you hate me. However, out of respect to the mother I never knew existed, I am willing to hope that there is someone in you who is worth getting to know."  
  
"I see." Snape said. "Where do we start?"  
  
"We start with why she did it." Harry said.  
  
Snape winced. "The headmaster will want his office back." He said after a moment. "Would you like to continue this in my rooms.?" Snape rang the bell on the mantle and in a moment a house elf appeared. "Please have this trunk taken to Harry Potter's room."  
  
Harry nodded. "But don't think this lets you out of answering my question."  
  
Snape gave an answering nod. They walked to the door. Harry was surprised to se he was scarcely shorter than the older man. They stood, eye to eye, for a moment.  
  
"You look so much like her. I had convinced myself that it was because she and Lily were cousins." Snape shook his head in wonder.  
  
"Why don't I look more like you, sir?" Harry asked.  
  
Snape was taken aback. He looked closely at Harry's features. "You do… or rather, you look like members of my family. I can show you pictures if you like. The only person you do not look like now is James Potter, for which I am profoundly grateful."  
  
"You really hate him?" It was only half a question.  
  
"Lets go." Snape said, turning towards the door.  
  
"Professor?" Harry said. Snape looked back to see Harry raise his eyebrows inquiringly.  
  
"Yes, I hated him." He paused. "I don't know if I still do. The way he seemed… Well, lets just say I believe him when he says he wanted me to know about you."  
  
"I don't think he was in on Sirius'… well, all those years ago." Harry ventured.  
  
Snape snarled audibly, then relaxed. "Perhaps he was not." For a moment, Snape looked thoughtful, almost amused. "The Marauders were not the only pranksters, you know. Nor was that the only life threatening 'joke.' Lets go, Harry." Snape looked furtively around Dumbledore's office.  
  
"Right." Harry agreed.  
  
They descended the moving stairs together.   
  
Ron and Hermione met them right outside the gargoyle.   
  
"All right, Harry?" Ron asked.  
  
Harry smiled sadly. "All right." He replied.  
  
Snape looked from teen to teen to teen, just a little panic showing in his eyes.  
  
Hermione was staring at Harry, her eyes narrowed slightly. "Harry?"  
  
Harry took a deep breath. "Fine, so the bottom just fell out of my world. I'll survive."  
  
"Miss Granger, Mr. Weasely, if you don't mind, we were going to take this conversation downstairs. It is hardly suitable for a public corridor." Snape ground out. "As Potter will undoubtedly repeat the entire conversation to you, I will invite you to accompany us."  
  
Harry's eyes flew to Snape's face. "Are you sure?"  
  
"They might as well hear it from both of us." Snape then turned abruptly and swept down the hall. The three teenagers followed after only a slight hesitation.  
  
Snape led them into the dungeons, then up the stairs to his private rooms. Ron and Hermione gawked at the painting.   
  
Ron's eyes flashed from element to element than settled on the small motif in the lower right-hand corner. "That's an original Thornton." He exclaimed. "Wow."  
  
Snape stared at the boy in astonishment. "Well, yes, of course." He frowned. "How did you know?"  
  
"Well, my brother, Bill, you know, he's a big fan, isn't he? He has every catalogue and book about her work." Ron was staring at the image again. "So I recognize her signature. This painting was not in any of the books."  
  
"No." Snape agreed. "This painting was never displayed or exhibited." He activated the door. "Come in."  
  
They entered. Ron and Hermione looked around the room with interest. Snape crossed to the fire.  
  
"Shall I ring for tea?" He suggested.  
  
"Um, fine." Harry agreed.  
  
"Sit, then, all of you." Snape instructed, ringing the little bell.   
  
Humby appeared immediately. "Yes, Master Severus, sir? What will you be wanting, sir?"  
  
"Are you well, Humby?" Snape asked.  
  
"Oh, yes, sir. Master is too kind, sir." The elf nodded enthusiastically and bowed extra low to demonstrate that he could.  
  
"Very well, Humby. Tea for four, if you would." Snape smiled faintly at the old elf.  
  
"Would you be wanting Mr. Potter's tea things, sir?" Humby asked, bowing at Harry.  
  
Snape's eyebrows rose and he turned to Harry.  
  
"No, thanks." Harry said quickly. "Regular tea would be fine."  
  
The elf bowed again and disappeared to the kitchen.  
  
Snape eyed Harry, but made no comment. He took a seat facing the three friends. They sat in silence for a few minutes.  
  
"I assume Potter, er, Harry has informed you of our previous conversation?" Snape began.   
  
Ron and Hermione nodded.   
  
"Well, most of it." Harry qualified. "A condensed version, really."  
  
"So you know that directly after school I married Della Maddis, Lily Potter's cousin and closest friend."  
  
They all nodded again.  
  
"What none of us knew until tonight." Snape continued. "Was that Della…" He swallowed hard and looked away.  
  
"Della was my real mother." Harry said in the gap. "And he," He pointed at Snape. "Her husband, fathered me. The Potters adopted me when I was newborn."  
  
Ron and Hermione looked at each other and then from Snape to Harry.   
  
"Are you sure?" Ron asked, just as Hermione said. "You didn't know, did you?"  
  
"Yes, we are sure." Harry said.   
  
"And no, I had no idea." Snape added. "Della went to great lengths to ensure that I did not know."  
  
"Why?" Harry asked, staring intently at Snape. "No slithering out of answering this time."   
  
"Right." Snape said, then fell silent while the three of them stared at him.  
  
Just at that moment, Humby reappeared with the tea. He poured it, not noticing the silence. He bowed and then popped out again.  
  
"I suppose that you all know that I was once a Death Eater." Snape said, finally. "I was lulled and seduced into thinking Voldemort… Never mind that." He sighed.  
  
"I resisted telling Della; knowing deep within that she would not approve. That she was right not to approve." He sipped his tea, considering his words.  
  
"I believe she suspected me of infidelity of a slightly different sort." He looked around at them, settling on Harry's face.  
  
"I was evil. I did things that no person should consider. Things no decent person should ever even know about. For a short while, I reveled in it. That – the joy I took in it – is why Della chose to hide you from me." Snape set his teacup down and clenched his hands tightly together.  
  
"Once her eyes were fully opened to the actual evil lurking in my soul, Della never trusted me, never even spoke with me again." He flinched at his own words. "She would have wanted, above all, to protect you from my influence. Permanently. The truly amazing thing is that she left instructions for us to ever meet as father and son."  
  
"Why now?" Harry asked. "Why on her birthday when I am fifteen? It seems a bit odd, doesn't it?"  
  
"Maybe a bit." Snape considered the question, then his lips twisted wryly. "It is a jibe at me, I suppose. It was on her own fifteenth birthday that she made me promise to marry her."  
  
"An interesting way to put it." Hermione said.  
  
"The most accurate way to describe the scene, though. She told me that day that she was her own person, and more than able to form her own opinions about people." He caught Harry's eye. "That is a message to both of us. She wanted you to grow up outside my influence until you were old enough to make your own judgments. You are definitely your own person, Potter…Harry. Just as Della intended."  
  
None of the teenagers spoke, so Snape continued.  
  
"I believe someone, or several some ones caused her to doubt her resolution to cut me out of your life forever. Lily and Dumbledore…" He scowled. "I suspect that James Potter may also have been very vocal on my behalf."  
  
All three of the teenagers jumped in their seats.  
  
"Because of what he said in the memory?" Harry asked.  
  
"Partially." Snape agreed. "James came to see me shortly before Della died, after Dumbledore had tried to plead my case to Della. We talked, exchanged insults, then he said… That he wished we could have raised our children together as Lily and Della always wanted."  
  
"But if they couldn't?" Harry started.  
  
"That wouldn't have stopped them from wishing and dreaming, or even adopting other children. James could not reveal Della's secrets while she was protected. He did tell me that he thought Della was wrong to keep me away once I was trusted by Dumbledore. I have a feeling that he told her that more than once while she was living with them."  
  
"So, let me get this straight." Ron said, after a few moments of silence. "Della is your mother, He is your father, the Potters adopted you and you were not told until now to protect you? Have I got it all?"  
  
Harry let out a short, humorless laugh. "Well, yeah, basically. Della…mum?...asked that I try to get to know him." Harry gestured to Snape. "That is what we are going to try to do. Just get to know one another."  
  
"Then, if Harry does not like what he sees, he can…" Snape's jaw clenched. "Repudiate me as his mother did. Frankly, I wouldn't blame him."  
  
"If you don't mind, I'd like some time to myself about now." Harry said. "This is going to take some getting used to."  
  
"Of course." Snape said. "Would you come to see me tomorrow? Maybe for lunch?"  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
They all stood and Snape walked them out.  
  
***** 


	15. Confrontation

Disclaimer - Uh, like, what I said before. Uh huh. *nods*  
*****  
  
Alone once again, Severus Snape paced the perimeter of the room. He brushed his fingers over his belongings, taking comfort in the familiarity of his surroundings.   
  
He paused at the fireplace and touched his photo albums. He should share them with the boy. In his mind, he was having a hard time acknowledging the boy's name. What would they have called him if they had been together when he was born?  
  
Callum? Maurus after his mother? Alexander was a nice strong name. He discounted the traditional Snape Family names. He would hate to subject a child to Severus for example. For a girl, their second or third child perhaps, it would have been a flower name. Jasmine, for Della's beloved Grandmother? He sighed. It was useless to speculate.  
  
He lifted one of the volumes of photographs and opened it to a random page. He and Della had gone to the Potters for a summer party. There he was, feeling entirely out of place on an uncomfortable wooden lawn chair. Della and Lily were chatting in the foreground with Remus Lupin. All three were laughing.  
  
Snape suddenly saw red. Lupin!  
  
He closed the book and placed it back in line with the others. He left his chambers and traveled the corridors, becoming angrier and angrier as he went.  
  
He burst into the office, eyes blazing, features twisted into a terrifying mask of rage.  
  
"Did you know?" He demanded.  
  
Lupin looked up from the papers he had been grading, shock, surprise and just a little fear in his eyes.  
  
"Well, did you?" Snape repeated.  
  
"Know what?" Lupin put down his quill and pushed his chair back.  
  
"That Lily and James could not have children, for starters."  
  
"What?" Confusion joined the other emotions on his face. "But Harry…"  
  
"Is Della's son." Snape said through clenched teeth.  
  
Lupin's mouth dropped open. He shook his head slightly. "But…" His mind raced, making the connections. "Merlin!"  
  
Snape relaxed. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Would you mind if I sat down?"  
  
Lupin's mouth snapped shut. "Of course." He levitated a pile of rolled parchments off of one of the chairs. "Sit."  
  
Snape sat. His fingers immediately began drumming on the arm of his chair.  
  
"I take it you just found out?" Lupin probed.  
  
"Yes. All part of Della's elaborate plan." He said. He noticed his fingers and held that hand tightly in his other.  
  
"Lily was pregnant." Lupin said slowly. "I saw her. She and Della…"  
  
"A spell." Snape broke in. "Lily and James were infertile. They said as much tonight in a recording the solicitor brought. If Lily appeared pregnant, it was a scheme to fool the world. To fool me."  
  
"But…" Lupin stopped and shook his head. "I knew she had left you. I swear I knew nothing of this. Why, Severus?"  
  
Snape roughly pulled up his sleeve and held out his arm for Lupin to see.   
  
"Do you think I was worthy of her?" He demanded. "I don't." Snape lowered his gaze, defeated, and pulled his sleeve back over the Dark Mark.  
  
Lupin blinked silently, then nodded. "No, Severus, I did not know. I doubt anyone did. Not Sirius, not Peter. Except…Dumbledore?" Lupin raised his eyebrows.  
  
Snape nodded. "I think so, although he did not say."  
  
"How did Harry take it?" Lupin asked.  
  
"Better than I did, I think. He is resilient, his years here have proven that much." Snape smiled slightly, but it faded quickly. "How can I do this, Remus? I know nothing about being a father. Especially the father of a teenager."  
  
"Severus…"  
  
Snape flinched at the compassion he saw in the werewolf's eyes.  
  
"Breathe, Severus. Take everything one day at a time. Harry is a fine young man. It will just take a great deal of adjusting for both of you."  
  
"One day at a time." Snape took a deep breath. "Right. I hope I do not need to ask you not to repeat what I have told you."  
  
Lupin nodded.  
  
"This is Harry's secret even more than mine. He is to be given the opportunity to completely deny me."  
  
Lupin's eyes widened.  
  
"It was part of Della's requirements. It will be easier for him if our relationship is not widely known."  
  
"Right." Lupin said finally.  
  
The two men sat in silence for several long minutes. They had not been friends, all those years ago. Snape had put up with Della's friends mostly by ignoring Black and saying as little as possible to the rest of them.  
  
"What is it Severus?" Lupin said eventually. "There is something else."  
  
Snape turned his head and gave a very good impression of being mesmerized by a blank spot on the wall near the door.  
  
"Severus?" Lupin pushed gently.  
  
Snape drew in a long, shuddering breath. "Della did more than leave me. She denied me. She formally repudiated our bonds in front of witnesses." His voice was level, but he continued to stare at a point on the wall.   
  
"She was subdued, those last few months." Lupin said. "After she left you. Oh, her personality did not change." He did not give Snape a chance to interrupt. "She was kind, cheerful, but not brilliantly happy. Sometimes she would stop what she was doing and just stare off. She did not laugh as readily. She never teased anyone as she teased you."  
  
Snape nodded, noticing that a small spider was crossing his portion of wall.  
  
"She read your letters when they came."  
  
Snape looked at him, finally.  
  
"She carried them with her. I caught her reading one once. She missed you."  
  
"She was stubborn." Snape said, almost smiling.  
  
"Yes." Lupin agreed. "Very stubborn."  
  
"Thank you." Snape said, standing. He swallowed hard and did not meet Lupin's eyes.  
  
"I am here if you want to talk." Lupin said.  
  
Snape just nodded and left.  
  
*****  
  
A/N - Was that angry enough? He has been dealing with Della's rejection for a long time. The night's revelations mostly just renewed the pain, tore fragile scars from wounds that are still tender.  
  
I know, I know, Lupin seems to be the last person Sev would turn to for comfort. He didn't know that was why he was going. 


	16. Lunch

Disclaimer – Um…If you think we came up with the Harry Potter world, than you are more delusional than Gusha.  
  
Guess what, guys…I got all 'A's. (Well 2 '-A' but what difference does that make?) Gusha's schoolwork did not suffer, and she can now edit and write more of this fic.  
  
*****  
  
Harry approached Snape's quarters with some trepidation the next afternoon. The painting was ajar, so Harry knocked on the doorjamb.  
  
"Come in." Snape called.  
  
Harry entered Snape's sanctum for the third time. He was still surprised at how bright and airy the room seemed.  
  
"Lunch will arrive shortly." Snape said, gesturing Harry towards a chair on one side of the low table.  
  
"You know, Professor," Harry said, sitting. "This isn't quite how I would have pictured your rooms."   
  
"Indeed?" Snape sat in the chair beside him and raised his eyebrow inquiringly. "You imagined a black shrouded dungeon, perhaps?" He drawled. "No natural light?"  
  
"Um, something like that." Harry admitted.  
  
"Or maybe a rough cave where I could sleep upside down like a bat." Snape continued in a voice like black velvet. "Or a simple sepulcher, nothing but a velvet lined coffin?"  
  
Harry shuddered. "No, that is getting too weird."   
  
"If you say so." Snape shrugged. "Some of the dungeon guest rooms are furnished that way." He looked around the room. "This suits me just fine. I have spent enough of my life in dungeons. This is what I want to retreat to."  
  
Harry nodded, and the food arrived without fanfare.  
  
"I thought you might like to see my photo albums." Snape said.  
  
"I would like that, Professor." Harry smiled hesitantly.  
  
Snape winced. "Um, under the circumstances, perhaps we ought to be at least on a first name basis. May I call you Harry?"  
  
"Of course." Harry nodded.  
  
"For now, call me Severus when we are alone." He instructed. "I am rather on trial, after all."  
  
Severus handed Harry a hardbound volume. "This one first."  
  
Harry opened the book to the first picture.  
  
"My parents' wedding party." Snape said, filling his plate. "My mother, Maura, her sister, Rose. You look a lot like them. I take after my father, Primus, although I have my mother's coloring. And there is his best man, Tom."  
  
Harry peered at the photograph while Severus spoke. The women had jet black hair and rather dark complexions. They looked…like gypsies. He could see that he did resemble them, in the shape of his face mostly.  
  
Harry's grandfather was a haughty looking young man with sandy blonde hair, cold blue eyes and the sort of skin that must sunburn in the shade. Harry's attention focused on the best man. He looked very familiar.  
  
"Tom…not…"  
  
"Yes, Tom Riddle. My father knew him at school. Worshiped him, really. At the time they were married, everyone still believed that Tom had caught the one who opened the chamber of secrets. No one knew what he would become, not then."  
  
"He knew." Harry countered. "His closest friends already called him Lord Voldemort."  
  
Severus nodded. "Including my father, most likely."  
  
Harry turned the page and Severus led him through his early years while they ate.  
  
"There I am in my mother's studio." The photo was of a very young Severus sitting in a window seat. He looked like a perfect little gentleman, except for the red handprint on the front of his white shirt. He was grinning broadly. "She charmed the stain off just after she took the photo."  
  
"Her studio?" Harry looked up.  
  
"She was a painter." Severus gestured at the canvas hanging over the mantle. "Her work, painted just before I was born. She hung it in my nursery." His expression hardened suddenly. "My father went on a rampage through the castle when she died. He destroyed all of her work that he could find. The house elves figured out what he was doing and saved most of the paintings for me. They gave him blank canvases to destroy."  
  
"Your mum was Maura Thornton, the painter Ron keeps going on about." Harry asked, wide eyed.  
  
Severus' lips twisted. "Yes. We don't talk about it much. My father did not approve of her career, so she used her maiden name. The happiest memories of my childhood are of being with her in her studio while she worked. She would put Humby in charge of me. I would play, talk to her, and get into things."  
  
Harry turned the page. Severus' wryly amused expression faded to sorrow.  
  
"This was taken at my mother's funeral." He said. "I was five." He frowned. "Everything went downhill from there. My father was not prepared for her death. I don't believe that he ever recovered."  
  
Harry continued, into the next volume. "You stopped smiling when your mother died." He said at one point.  
  
Severus' jaw clenched. "I had reason to. My mother was kind. My father did not know how to be; not without her example to guide him. I suppose that I am rather like him in that respect. I didn't mean to be." He looked right into Harry's eyes, willing the boy to believe him. "I would not have abused you, Harry. I would have tried to be a good father."  
  
"I believe you." Harry said. "You would have tried. You probably would have done better than the Dursleys did."  
  
"Did they hurt you, Harry?" Severus asked a dangerous look in his eyes.  
  
"No, not directly." Harry said quickly, Severus relaxed a little. "They were never nice. They tried to squash any magic or imagination out of me, but they never actually struck me."  
  
Severus growled. "Still, we should see about finding somewhere else for you to spend your holidays. Even if you never accept me, my Aunt Rose might take you in. I will take you to meet her soon."  
  
"I would like to." Harry said, smiling.  
  
The bell warning the end of lunch sounded.  
  
"Well, this was hardly even painful, wouldn't you say, Po-Harry?" Severus said. "Shall we continue this tomorrow?"  
  
Harry grinned and agreed.  
  
***** 


	17. Yet another chapter

*****  
Disclaimer: Harry Potter Stuff belongs to JKR. Shakespearean Sonnets are in the public domain, I believe, but I certainly did not write them.   
  
Hello Readers!  
  
Thank you to everyone who reviewed. If you will notice, I am no longer pouting about reviews. I love my reviewers.  
  
Um, no one knows that Maura Thornton is Sev's mother. By the way, artists don't always make good parents either. I know from being an artist myself that it is a bigger job than most 9-5 deals. Snape's parents were well off enough to have full time nursemaids watching him. His mum would have gotten nothing done if she had to watch him in her studio. Sev is not about to tell Ron either. He just doesn't mention it.  
  
*****  
  
"That's really freaky. You know that, don't you?"  
  
Harry peered up from behind the curtains of his bed at Neville Longbottom.  
  
"Eh? What do you mean?" He said, blinking.  
  
"You, talking to that snake all the time, that's what." Neville said his expression somewhere between revolted and afraid. "What are you telling it anyway?"  
  
"Not much," Harry admitted. "I tell her about my day, sometimes I sing her a lullaby. I want her to be used to the sound of my voice."  
  
Neville stepped closer. "Can I touch it?" He looked amazed at his own daring.  
  
"Maybe." Harry grinned. "Come here, I'll ask her." He turned to the snake and hissed. "Sweetheart, Neville wants to pet you. Would that be alright?"   
  
The snake tested the air and then hissed her reply. "Fear. I afraid?"   
  
"There is no reason for you to be afraid. Most humans are afraid of snakes." Harry told her.  
  
"Up." She moved towards his hands. "Up." She demanded again, more insistently.  
  
Harry picked her up, smiling.  
  
"Boy touch, not hold." She said imperiously.  
  
"It's all right, Neville. She says you can touch her. Run your finger down her spine like this. She likes that." Harry demonstrated.  
  
Neville reached out a trembling hand and repeated the motion that Harry had shown him. Then he pulled his hand away quickly.  
  
"She's soft." He said, in wonder. "And warm, but not slimy like I thought she would be."  
  
Harry nodded. "What do you think, love?" he asked the snake.  
  
"Again. Felt funny. He shakes."  
  
"She wants you to try again." Harry told Neville. "I think she likes you."  
  
Neville reached out his hand again, a little more comfortably. He touched her longer before pulling away again.   
  
"Hermione sent me up to remind you its time for dinner." Neville said.  
  
"Right. Thanks, Neville. I'll be down in a moment." Harry said.  
  
He turned his attention back to the snake in his hands. "Time for me to go, little one."  
  
"Bring box. I come." She said.   
  
Harry grinned and scooped up her little cage. "Let's go." He said to Neville.  
  
*****  
  
"You skipped a page." Harry said, several days later. He looked up at Severus instead of down at the book.  
  
"Yes, I did." Severus acknowledged.   
  
Harry bit his lip and lowered his eyes; clearly disappointed.  
  
Severus sighed and turned the page back.  
  
There were no pictures on this page, just a set of words: forward, back, repeat… and a long narrow box.  
  
"This was Della's idea. She got a Muggle sound recorder, and… well." Severus touched his wand to 'forward' and the box slowly began to fill with dull blue light.  
  
Sound emanated from the page. It was Della's voice.  
  
"Come on, Sev. Please? For me?"  
  
"Della…" Rumbled Severus' voice.  
  
"Please? I love you." She cajoled, in a singsong voice.  
  
He laughed a rich, full bodied sound. It was cut off suddenly by a low "Oof" and a slurping sort of sound. They were kissing, Harry realized.  
  
"All right." Severus gasped, a few moments later. "I'll do it." He seemed a bit out of breath. "Or we could do something else." He said suggestively.  
  
"Now!" She demanded, triumphantly. "Say it."  
  
"Are you sure you set that thing up properly?" He asked, stalling.  
  
"Yes, certain. Now say it." She persisted.  
  
Whatever Harry had been expecting, what he heard was not it.   
  
"Sonnet 130   
By William Shakespeare  
  
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun   
Coral is far more red than her lips' red:   
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;   
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.   
I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,   
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;   
And in some perfumes is there more delight   
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.   
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know   
That music hath a far more pleasing sound:   
I grant I never saw a goddess go,—   
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:   
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare   
As any she belied with false compare."   
  
Della moaned from the page when the poem was over.  
  
"Thank you, Sev." She purred. "Now lets go…hum…do something else."  
  
There were more kissing noises, and then Della said. "Oh, wait, I have to turn it off." There was a click and the recording stopped.  
  
Harry looked up at Severus. His normally sallow skin was glowing red.  
  
"All right." Harry said. "I can see why you didn't want to share that, but I am glad you did. Thank you."   
  
Severus just nodded.  
  
"Why that poem in particular?" Harry asked.  
  
Severus shook his head. "I really don't know why Della liked that one so much. I came across it in my Muggle Studies class in fifth year. I read it to Della. She loved it. I thought it was odd, a bit insulting really. But Della said she had heard it before. It was apparently one of her mother's favorite poems. She liked to hear me read it so much that I quickly memorized it."  
  
"I don't understand." Harry said. "Why?"  
  
"I don't understand it either. Ask Miss Granger. It seems to be a female thing."  
  
"You took Muggle Studies?" Harry asked suddenly.  
  
"Yes, I did. My aunt advised me to take it." Severus said. "I was apprenticed to her after my first year. I spent all my holidays with her."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Dumbledore arranged it. On my first day at Hogwarts he found out about my home life. My father…he was not a nice man. He hurt me, often and deliberately. He rarely hit me directly. He had spells and charms he used…" Severus took a deep breath. "Dumbledore took me out of his custody by forcing him to apprentice me to my aunt. It made her my guardian. I only saw my father very rarely after that."  
  
Harry nodded and turned to the last picture in the book. Della and Severus were on a picnic on the moors.   
  
"Humby took that picture. We were living at Thornhollow. You can see the cottage, just there. That is the property Della left you. The cottage where we lived and a fair piece of the land around it for privacy." Severus pointed to a small building in the distance.   
  
"Della was laughing at me, as usual." His features were soft, as they usually were when he was speaking of Della. "It was right before I…lost her."  
  
"Severus," Harry said, flipping back through the pictures quickly. "When did you start wearing only black?"  
  
Severus was very surprised at the question. He considered a moment. "I…Well, I suppose when Della died. It became such a habit then…"  
  
"Dumbledore once told me not to dwell on the past so much that you forget to live." Harry said in a rush.  
  
"Harry…" Severus warned. "I don't…"  
  
"Well then, what would Della want?" Harry persisted. "Think about it. I want to be early to class. I have something to ask Professor Flitwick."  
  
"Goodbye, Harry" Severus said.  
  
"See you later, Severus."  
  
*****  
  
A/N – The actual quote is "It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that." SS p. 214, American softbound edition.  
  
I would like to thank bartleby.com for archiving Shakespeare so that I do not have to type the whole poem in. And Alan Rickman for reading it on "When Love Speaks" which gave me the idea. Man I love that poem. the first link on the page.  
  
I hope you see now why I kept the Dursleys G-rated. I don't think Sev would have handled it well. I didn't want to hurt him more. I have tortured him a lot.  
  
Besides, I bet Vernon did hit him once when he was really little. It probably provoked a magical incident. Lol. Vernon was too afraid of Harry's magic to try again.  
  
***** 


	18. Dinner conversation

*****  
Disclaimer – (insert standard Gusha-doesn't-own-it here.)  
  
A/N - Oh, by the way, everything is all sadilou's fault. We saw her do it, and we have documented evidence. Blame her, not us. Hehehehehehehh  
  
Sadilou: Did not! Did not! She started it! And besides…the evidence was all doctored…hehehehe  
*hides scalpel behind her back*  
  
The snake suddenly has a name, Zinnia. Don't ask why. She just does. Live with it.   
  
Thank you to everyone who reviewed. I love you all.  
  
*****  
  
After the first time Zinnia chose to come with him to dinner, Harry always asked her if she wanted to accompany him when he left his room.   
  
Some days she came. If she had just eaten, she was more likely to stay upstairs and sleep.  
  
At first, she stayed in her box most of the time. It had rather good stabilization charms on it, so that Zinnia did not feel the disconcerting motion of walking about.   
  
Soon, she became curious about the wider world and began to crawl around, up Harry's arms and often came to rest around his neck.   
  
Zinnia was still a very small snake, despite having shed her skin more than once. She was also shy, and hid in Harry's robes more often than not.  
  
Harry convinced Hermione to help him bespell pockets in all his clothing with stabilizing charms and rigidity charms to make nests where Zinnia could rest whenever she wanted to. Hermione loved the chance to do a bit of extra studying.  
  
Then they also set up communication spells. The idea was inspired by one of Dudley's favorite television shows, a spy program. The spell allowed Zinnia to communicate directly to the earpiece of Harry's glasses from her box in his room.   
  
Harry could hiss back under most conditions without anyone even noticing. After all, who would notice you speaking in Parsletongue if there was no snake around for you to be speaking to?  
  
Zinnia, sensing that he was still upset by his conversation with Severus, had accompanied him to dinner.  
  
"Scared?" Zinnia hissed. "I scared?" She lifted her head against his cheek.  
  
"Scared of what?" Harry asked her.   
  
She hissed incoherently and tasted the air. "No, not. Just too many scent/feelings."  
  
Harry stroked her soothingly and she relaxed, making a hiss that translated almost like purring.  
  
Harry watched the school pile into the Great Hall for dinner from a place at the Gryffindor table. Ron and Hermione took seats on either side of him.  
  
"Harry?" Zinnia asked, suddenly tensing again.  
  
"Shh, what is it?"  
  
"Why Shaking Boy fall?" She slithered quickly down his arm and nudged his hand.   
  
Harry turned his hand over and she coiled herself into his palm.   
  
Had Neville fallen? Harry looked around. Neville wasn't even in the Hall.   
  
"Up." Zinnia commanded.  
  
Harry lifted her up and she looked at him, tasting his emotions.  
  
"Confused?" She asked. "No. Shaking Boy not hurt. Good. Like Shaking Boy." Zinnia retreated into a pocket in Harry's sleeve.  
  
When the food appeared on the table, a slip of parchment appeared beneath Harry's fork. He unfolded it cautiously.  
  
Harry,  
Meet me on top of the Astronomy Tower at 5 AM. Bring your broom.  
This note serves as permission for you to be out of bounds, so bring it with you.  
Severus  
  
Harry looked up at the man that he was slowly coming to acknowledge as his father. Severus was watching him.  
  
Harry grinned and nodded. Then his eyes widened and his jaw dropped. Harry plucked at his own robes and raised his brows.  
  
Severus was wearing gray! Dark gray, sure, but it wasn't black.  
  
One side of the man's mouth twitched upwards and he nodded. He raised his glass in Harry's direction, and then he turned to speak with Professor Vector.  
  
Harry grinned. The tension that he hadn't even known he had dissipated. Maybe Severus wasn't as unreasonable as he had seemed.  
  
Harry filled his plate enthusiastically and turned to Hermione, mouth full.  
  
"So, are you and Ron dating yet?" He asked  
  
Ron, on his other side, gave an outraged cry and batted Harry over the head with his napkin.  
  
"Chew with your mouth shut and mind your own business, Harry." She said, pulling a book from her pocket.  
  
"Hey, none of that." Harry said, reaching for the book. "No reading at table. It's rude."  
  
"Oh, you're one to talk." Hermione scowled, but put the book back away.  
  
"What? I never read at table." Harry grinned at her.  
  
"You're terribly chipper all of a sudden." Ron said scowling. "Did Zinnia tell a joke?  
  
"If you want, I can switch places with one of you so you can…" Harry said.  
  
"Shut up, Harry." Hermione interrupted.   
  
"Well, you know…" Harry continued blithely.   
  
"Hermione." Ron interrupted, "Mighty fine weather wouldn't you say?"  
  
Harry laughed and looked up at the ceiling of the Great Hall. It looked like they might be in for a heavy thunder storm the way that the clouds were rolling in.   
  
"Absolutely stunning." Hermione agreed. "Please pass the asparagus."  
  
"So, are you looking forward to going to Hogsmead this weekend?" Harry handed her the platter, still grinning.   
  
"I need to visit the apothecary." Ron said. "I've run out of some things already."  
  
"I read in the Daily Prophet that Watkin's Traveling Bookshop will be in town." Hermione said. "I have wanted to visit them. They have hundreds of books from all over the world. Some of them are really rare."  
  
They all looked around as the doors to the Great Hall opened and Neville came in, not quite running.   
  
Goyle, at the end of the Slytherin table, stuck out his foot and tripped him. Neville cried out and pitched forward on the floor. He rolled and was on his feet again before anyone could say anything.  
  
"You did that deliberately." Neville said loudly.  
  
"I did?" Goyle said, trying - and failing - to look innocent. He cracked his knuckles.  
  
Neville scowled and strode over to the Gryffindor table. He sat down opposite to Harry and silently began filling the empty plate there.  
  
Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at each other and then back at Neville, who was still upset.   
  
"Are you all right?" Harry asked.  
  
"Never better." Neville said with what looked almost like a sneer. "Stupid Slytherins make me so mad."  
  
"Yes." Ron said, not sure what to say.  
  
"Peeves must be a Slytherin." Neville continued. "Blasted poltergeist drenched me with some nasty smelling goop just as I was coming to dinner."  
  
MacGonagall tapped her glass with her fork and the Great Hall quieted. The Headmaster spoke from the head of the hall.  
  
"Five points taken from Slytherin for Mr. Goyle's malice." Dumbledore said quietly. "Five points given to Gryffindor for Mr. Longbottom's self control. Please continue with your dinner."   
  
The Gryffindors all grinned down the table at Neville. Dumbledore giving points at dinner was a rare occurrence in itself, but to take them as well was almost unheard of.  
  
"Shaking Boy happy?" Zinnia asked from Harry's sleeve. She crawled out and onto the table.  
  
"Yes, I think he is." Harry replied.  
  
"Up to Shaking Boy." Zinnia hissed.   
  
"What do you mean?" Harry asked her as she lifted herself onto his hand again.  
  
"Up." She said.  
  
"Um, Neville?" Harry said uncertainly.  
  
"Yeah, Harry?" Neville asked.  
  
"I think Zinnia wants to talk to you. Do you mind?" Harry held up the tiny snake in his hand.  
  
"I guess not." Neville peered Zinnia. "You will have to translate, I suppose."  
  
Harry half stood and reached across to hold Zinnia over Neville's plate. "Like this?" He asked her.  
  
"To." She demanded. "Hold."  
  
"Um, do you want to hold her?" Harry asked.  
  
"I guess." Neville looked a bit surprised, but he put his hand next to Harry's.  
  
Zinnia crawled onto his hand, and Harry sat back down.   
  
"What does she want?" Neville asked, reaching up to stroke her head.  
  
"I don't know." Harry admitted. "She does what she wants to. She likes you. She is usually really shy. She calls you Shaking Boy."  
  
Neville laughed. "Appropriate, probably."  
  
"Double shaking." Zinnia said. "Tickles."  
  
Harry hissed to Zinnia. "Neville likes your name for him." Then he said to Neville. "She says you are double shaking, and that it tickles."  
  
"Shaking Boy happy?" Zinnia asked again.   
  
"She wants to know if you are happy." Harry told Neville.  
  
He grinned. "Yes. I am, despite all the Slytherins in the world."  
  
"He is." Harry hissed.  
  
"Good." Zinnia turned back to Harry. "Nap Pocket." She ordered.  
  
Harry reached over and let her climb back onto him. "Now she wants to take a nap." Harry said, carrying her to the pocket inside the front of his robes. She settled down quickly.  
  
"Well, that was interesting." Neville said, turning back to his food. "I wish I could talk to Trevor."  
  
*****  
  
I think this has a slightly different tone to it than most of the story. Slapstick and comic relief.  
  
I understand that you are supposed to wash your hands after handling a reptile, but hey, this is a magical world and fiction on top of that. :-P 


	19. Up Before Dawn

Disclaimer – I do not own any of the rights to the Harry Potter Universe.  
  
A/N – Hello. Several people have asked if Zinnia is psychic. I will only say that if she is, Harry has not noticed.  
  
Gusha does not especially like thunderstorms. She would also rather avoid tornados. Too bad the weather does not listen to her.  
  
*****  
Harry woke with a gasp and groped around for his glasses. He touched his scar. No, it didn't hurt. Odd, he felt that he must have had a nightmare, but he couldn't remember what it had been about.  
  
He looked over at his clock. Only 3:30. He stretched. He was about to lie back down to get some more sleep. Then he suddenly remembered Severus' note.   
  
He grinned. Bring his broom to the tower indeed.   
  
Harry threw back the curtains and set his feet on the floor. His breath came out in a hiss.   
  
His feet had landed on the bare stones instead of on the rug. He adjusted his aim and fished around for his slippers.  
  
He lit the candle by his bed and carried it to his desk. He sat in the chair, wincing at the cold again. The note was where he had left it, tucked under his inkwell.  
  
Harry yawned sleepily. As he did so, a steaming kettle arrived in its usual spot near his teapot.   
  
"Thank you." He murmured. He shivered. It was early, but a cup of tea was just the thing.  
  
Harry carefully went through his ritual. A little of this, a lot of that. He could do with some more nettle leaves.   
  
He yawned again.   
  
Crush the lot and into the pot. He poured the water in and turned over his three minute glass. That was a fairly new addition to the proceedings. One morning he had fallen half asleep waiting for the leaves to steep and missed half of his Divination class.  
  
He watched the sand fall and when it was gone he poured tea into his cup. He blew across the top and took the first sip. Yes.   
  
He focused on the day ahead. Double Herbology first. He hoped they were inside today. Last time they were working in the outside garden harvesting the summer's bounty.   
  
He thought about each class as he sipped his tea. He mentally checked off the homework that was due that day. Done, Done, Done. He smiled. Good thing he had Hermione in most of his classes. She kept him on track.  
  
Harry swirled and turned over his cup with another yawn.   
  
"Hum." He murmured, turning the cup to catch the light.   
  
"Confrontations. I hope not with Severus. We have had more than enough for a few days."   
  
He turned the cup. "Old and new friends. Interesting. Positive results in the day's activities. Well, let's hope so."   
  
He turned the cup around again. "Might be an animal, the Grim? Sirius? Well, he is due to send me a letter."  
  
Harry winced. He had avoided telling Sirius about his father. He had the feeling that he would not take it well.  
  
Harry set down the cup and stretched again.  
  
"No Sleep?"   
  
Harry jumped at the slithering sound in his ear. His movements had woken Zinnia and she had activated the communication spell.  
  
"Shh, go back to sleep." He told her. "I'm going outside, it's cold. You don't want to come, do you?"  
  
"Ssssss. Cold? No. Sleep." She said grumpily. "Sleep. Warm box good. Sleep."  
  
Harry smiled fondly in the direction of her box.   
  
Harry dressed warmly, adding last year's Weasley Jumper on top.  
  
He braided his hair tightly as insurance against the wind. He added a hair charm he had learned from Bill Weasley and tucked Severus' note into the pocket of his slacks.  
  
None of his roommates stirred as he crept out of the room.   
  
"Out a bit early, aren't you, dear." The Fat Lady asked sleepily.  
  
"Got to meet a professor." He told her.  
  
She just grunted and went back to sleep.  
  
Harry clutched the note in his one hand and the Firebolt in the other as he trudged up the long flight of stairs in the tower.   
  
He was early, so he was a bit surprised to see Severus already waiting for him at the top.  
  
"Punctuality, Harry?" Severus said in the half mocking manner that Harry was coming to associate with his father's sense of humor. "Shocking."   
  
"What a terrible accusation, Severus." Harry returned dryly  
  
"Let's get airborne while it is still dark." Severus said, mounting his broom. "You get a few feet up, and then you shoot straight up as fast as you can, from the center of the tower. I'll go first."   
  
Severus kicked off and demonstrated.  
  
Harry followed. It was harder than he was expecting. Ten feet up, he encountered resistance. He pushed through the barrier and was truly flying.  
  
"I didn't know you could do that." Harry said, as he drew alongside Severus.  
  
"It's a family secret." Severus shouted over the wind. "The point of this exercise is to show you that there is more to flying than Quiddich. I'll go slow." Severus laughed and shot off towards the lake at top speed.  
  
Harry laughed and followed.   
  
They soared and dipped, flipped and rolled. Severus showed off a series of dangerous tricks that made Harry's eyes bulge.   
  
Then Severus led them on an almost suicidal tour of the treetops. Twice he almost ran Harry into trees that he himself quickly hopped.  
  
Then, just as the sun was rising, Severus took them high above the ground. They were just below the clouds.   
  
"Look." Severus yelled.   
  
Harry turned and watched the as the horizon lit spectacularly. They hovered, lazily, until the sun blazed in their eyes.  
  
Severus led them back to the tower.   
  
"That was amazing." Harry said. "Would you teach me to do some of those tricks?"  
  
Severus grinned and nodded. "If you want, but until you can do them in your sleep, you have to promise not to do them unsupervised."  
  
Harry nodded. They left the tower top and descended into the well lit staircase.  
  
"You will need a safety harness, and we will have to rig a safety net…"  
  
"A net?" Harry asked incredulously.  
  
"I learned with a net." Severus insisted. "The harness will link you to your broom. The net will be there to catch you." Harry opened his mouth. "No arguments or we won't do it." Severus warned.  
  
"Yes, sir." Harry said meekly. Then he got a good look at Severus. "You're wearing green!"  
  
Severus stopped, gasped in horror and grabbed the front of his robe. "Oh, the agony of it all." He exclaimed theatrically, pretending to stumble down the stairs. He hit the wall where the stairs turned for the last landing. He pounded his fists against it.  
  
Harry laughed.  
  
Severus ceased his antics and smiled softly at Harry. "Someone convinced me that fifteen years is too long to dwell on mistakes. Too long to mourn. Someone made me realize that the one I was mourning would be offended by it."  
  
Harry's mouth dropped open. "I didn't think you were listening." Harry confessed.  
  
"I listen when you talk, Harry." Severus said sincerely.  
  
"Oh, how touching." A cold voice drawled from the foot of the stairs.  
  
"Mind your own business, Malfoy." Harry snapped. They started down the stairs again.  
  
"What an excellent idea, Malfoy." Severus added dryly. "I will leave you, now that you are no longer out of bounds, Harry. Remember, there are good reasons you are not to visit the tower unsupervised."   
  
"Yes, sir." Harry grinned.  
  
"I will contact you with some possible times for your special lessons, Harry. I'll see you at lunch." Snape nodded to them both, and headed off, broom over his shoulder.   
  
"What's going on, Potter?" Malfoy demanded when Snape was gone.  
  
"Flying lessons." Harry said, still grinning.  
  
"Flying lessons?" Malfoy drawled. "From Snape? You two seem awfully chummy all of the sudden."  
  
"So what if we do." Harry said, starting to walk away. "I certainly would not tell /you/ why without warning him first. Dumbledore is fully aware of the situation, so there is no need for you to know anything." Harry grinned over his shoulder. Malfoy was following him. "If you are really so curious, ask Severus yourself."   
  
Harry left Malfoy behind then, ignoring his protests and whistling.  
  
*****  
  
A/N - Uh-oh. Drat that Malfoy, snooping around. Why was he there anyway?  
  
Hum Hoom Bam Boom  
  
More to flying than Quiddich. 


	20. An Introduction

Disclaimer: A not for profit fanfic. The Harry Potter Universe belongs to J.K. Rowling, not to me.  
  
A/N – I am feeling particularly evil today. He he he.  
  
This chapter doesn't say much really. The fun stuff is next chapter. I promise I'll get it up soon.  
  
As always, thanks to everyone who reviewed. I love you guys!  
  
*Gusha sticks her tongue out at sadilou who hasn't read it yet. What good is a secondary editor who goes off to work when you need her to read?*  
  
*****  
  
Harry was a few minutes late for lunch that day.  
  
"Punctuality?" Severus said, frowning. They sat down to eat.  
  
"Yes, I know how it offends you when I am on time, Severus, so I am trying to improve." Harry grinned.  
  
Severus shook his head in mock despair.   
  
Zinnia chose that moment to poke her head out of Harry's sleeve. "Sssss" She said, tasting the air. "New place?"  
  
"The rooms where Severus lives." Harry told her.  
  
"Father. Not father. Scary. Confused. Right?" She said.  
  
"Something like that." Harry agreed. "Right." He had been telling her about Severus every day, but this was the first time she had come with him to lunch.  
  
Severus was watching them with a very odd look on his face. "I can hardly wrap my mind around the concept of a Parsletounge at Hogwarts." He said. "Dumbledore warned all the professors about your new snake at the beginning of the term." His mouth twisted wryly. "I have been dreading it showing up in class."  
  
"I have brought Zinnia to class many times." Harry said. "You didn't notice?"  
  
Severus raised his eyebrows. "I didn't. That rather surprises me. I thought she would be a distraction, or cause a disturbance."  
  
"She is very shy really. She tries not to attract attention much." Harry stroked her back.  
  
"We all noticed her a dinner last night." Severus said wryly. "She has taken a liking to Longbottom?"  
  
"Yes, she rather has." Harry agreed. "Neville is the only person who has held her besides me."  
  
"Well, introduce us, then." Severus ordered.  
  
Harry looked startled. "All right." He lifted Zinnia so she could see him better. "Zinnia, love, this is Severus. He teaches Potions and as I have told you, he is my father."  
  
Severus did not flinch when Harry lifted Zinnia to his face so they could see one another.   
  
"Smelly class? Dark room?" Zinnia asked, tasting Severus' smell. (Perhaps an awkward way to put it, but…)  
  
"Yes." Harry agreed with her. He looked up at Severus. "This is Zinnia. She hatched the night of the opening feast."  
  
Severus let out a very carefully controlled hiss.   
  
Harry and Zinnia both jumped a little. Both had understood him. He said, in an odd, slurred accent. "My greetings."  
  
"I…" Harry began, his eyes very wide.  
  
"No, Harry, I'm not a Parslemouth. The Dark Lord thought it would be amusing to have us all learn a few words, is all." He winced a little at the memory. "I can also say 'take me to the master' and 'please don't bite me.'"  
  
"Speaks." Zinnia said. "Sounds funny."  
  
"He says he learned from another Snakefriend." Harry told her. "One who was not a nice person."  
  
"Interesting. Smells like smelly class." She complained.  
  
"Well, that's what he does." Harry told her.  
  
She retreated up his sleeve and settled around his neck.  
  
"What sort of snake is she?" Severus asked.  
  
"A python." Harry said. "A reticulated python, actually. Her markings are beginning to show up. They look a bit like a net. That's where the name comes from."  
  
"She is very good looking." Severus said. "You can tell her I said so."  
  
Harry relayed the message.  
  
"Ssss. Flattery." She said.   
  
"A python can grow to be quite large, can't it?" Severus asked.  
  
Harry grinned. "Yeah. Reticulated pythons are the biggest. Ron was compensating for not being able to get me something poisonous. According to my reading, she is likely to grow to be sixteen to twenty five feet long, and may live twenty five to thirty years."  
  
"A long term pet." Severus said.  
  
"A long term friend." Harry countered.  
  
"Of course." Severus agreed pleasantly. "I have spoken with Madame Hooch." He said, suddenly changing the subject. "She has the equipment that we will need to teach you trick flying. She is checking it for soundness. Everything should be ready soon."  
  
"Good." Harry smiled, but it faded quickly. "Severus, I'm worried about Malfoy. Do you think that we ought to make some sort of announcement before he starts rumors?"  
  
"That is entirely up to you, Harry. It is your life. One thing to consider – despite our blood tie, the Potters are your parents. I have no legal claim on you, none at all."  
  
"I almost wish you did." Harry admitted. "You are not as bad as I used to think. You are still aggravating in class."  
  
"That is about discipline around dangerous substances, Harry." Severus scowled. "We have been over this before…"  
  
"Yes, I know. We know each other's arguments inside and out." Harry smiled. "Maybe we should try debating from the opposite points of view."  
  
"You mean I would have to defend the cauldron melting students?" Severus said with a look of horror that might possibly be slightly theatrical, but it was hard to tell.  
  
"And I would have to try to justify intimidation and detention." Harry grinned.  
  
"I think I'll pass." Severus shuddered.  
  
Harry laughed. "Still, you have mellowed a little."  
  
"Take that back!" Severus scowled darkly.  
  
Harry laughed harder and Severus' scowl melted into what passed for a smile.  
  
Just then Lupin's face appeared in the fire. "Harry? Severus? You have a guest."  
  
"What?" Severus snapped. He turned to glare at the werewolf's head.  
  
"Padfoot wants to talk to you. Would you like to come up here, or should we come to you?" Lupin asked blandly.  
  
"Black is not welcome in my rooms." Severus said through clenched teeth.  
  
"I guess we will go up there, then." Harry said. "We'll see you in a few minutes."  
  
Severus growled. Lupin left the fire.  
  
"I don't like it." Severus said.   
  
"You just stressed that you have no legal claim to me. Well, Sirius does have one." Harry said. "The Potters named him my legal guardian. He is my godfather. He has a right to know what's going on."  
  
Severus sagged in defeat. "Right. Let's go."  
  
They trudged up to Lupin's office.  
  
"Harry!" Sirius said as they walked in. He embraced his godson, ignoring Snape's growls. "I've been worried. No one will tell me anything."   
  
Sirius held him at arms length to look at him. "Harry! You look even different than you did a month ago. What is happening to you?"  
  
"The disguise Lily, James and Della placed on me is wearing off." Harry said.  
  
"What?" Sirius looked completely confused.  
  
"The Potters adopted me when I was a baby. Della was my mother."  
  
Sirius' jaw dropped. "So he…" He pointed at Snape.  
  
"Yes." Severus said.  
  
"Oh, inverted enemy." Sirius said. "And life altering revelations."  
  
Sirius sat, hard on the floor and howled into his arms. It was hard to tell if he was laughing, screaming or crying.  
  
*****  
  
Ah, the infamous cliff hanger. He he he.   
  
The next segment will be out soon I need revise it and edit it one last time. Most likely in the next couple of days.  
  
La la la la la. Sooner only if I get bored. Not too likely today. I have to cook dinner. A good meal takes all day.  
  
Gusha waves at Darth Stitch. Welcome back! Lighter? Yes, perhaps. As for AR, I heard he was going to play Snape and I watched our copy of Sense and Sensibility to see if I could see him in the role. A resounding "Yes." 


	21. The Big, um? Fight?

Disclaimer: I am poor, I don't own it.  
  
A/N – Well, I looked this over and the only thing I really wanted to change was the last sentence, so here it is, sooner than I thought.  
  
Thank you to my loyal and longsuffering readers and reviewers. I love you all. (I just happen to be evil so it doesn't show.) *Gusha rolls her eyes and shakes her head.*  
  
Gee I love writing cliff hangers. If you hadn't noticed, I like prolonging the agony. So, we pick the story up…  
  
*****  
  
Last time: Sirius sat, hard on the floor and howled into his arms. It was hard to tell if he was laughing, screaming or crying…  
  
"What?" Asked Snape and Lupin together.   
  
Sirius looked up and drew in a huge breath. "When I visited Harry this summer, he read our tea leaves. His cup was all about an inverted or negated enemy." The words came out in a gasping rush.  
  
"What nonsense…" Lupin began.   
  
"Is this true, Harry?" Snape cut in, turning to look at his son.  
  
"Well, yeah." Harry shrugged. "But you can't take that stuff seriously. I mean, its just tea leaves."  
  
Severus laughed aloud. It was a strangely full bodied sound for someone who had not truly laughed in years.  
  
"Well, Severus," Harry said, bewildered. "If that is all it takes to get you to laugh, I would have offered to read the leaves for you ages ago."  
  
Severus wiped his eyes on his sleeves. "Do you have plans for this weekend, Harry? I need to introduce you to someone."  
  
"What a change of subject." Lupin mused. "This is not going at all like I expected."  
  
"At least they are not beating each other up." Harry offered.  
  
Lupin nodded. "Sirius? Are you all right?" He was still on the floor, mumbling.  
  
"I'm fine. My cup said 'upheavals, a bit of danger, and a life changing shock requiring the rethinking of old grievances.'" Sirius said. "My life has embodied the first two for a long time. I have been waiting for something big enough for the third. Well, this qualifies." He shook his head. "It is definitely not what I was expecting. But, I have been preparing myself for it."  
  
"Um, Sirius…" Lupin started.   
  
"Yeah, I know. If you look for the fulfillment of a prophetic statement, you will find it somewhere…More than once." Sirius sounded very much as if he was quoting something.  
  
"I really don't take the leaves seriously, honest." Harry broke in. "I had pretty much forgotten about your reading, Sirius."  
  
"The leaves are serious, Harry." Severus broke in. They all turned to stare at him. "Just not in the way that most people think. Their purpose is mostly to get the person thinking about their life in a new way. At least, if they are done properly."  
  
"An oracle." Harry supplied.  
  
"Exactly. They do not usually tell the future. Not like crystal gazing or water skrying can. The leaves, like the tarot, and casting the runes make people think. Occasionally, the castor can enhance the reading through magic. It takes a certain talent, which, as my blood kin, I expect you have."  
  
"What?" Harry gasped. "You're kidding."  
  
"No." Severus' mouth quirked up. "I'm not. That's why you should meet my Aunt Rose. If you would like to, that is."  
  
"I would definitely like to." Harry said firmly. "I'd love to get to know her. Can we really go this weekend?"  
  
Severus nodded.  
  
"Hey," Sirius broke in. "Could she take him in over the holidays? I hate leaving him with those terrible Muggles, and we all know I can't take him in on the run."  
  
"I had intended to ask her to." Severus agreed.  
  
"Well." Sirius said, "While we seem to have reached some sort of unspoken truce, I would like to apologize for something."  
  
All eyes were suddenly on him. He hurried on before anyone could speak.  
  
"I never meant to send Snape to his death." He pressed on despite exclamations from Remus and Sirius.   
  
"He never would have gotten as far as the house that night. I was watching him very closely on my copy of the Map. I was waiting for him just off the edge of the map. When he got half way down the tunnel, he would have met a huge black dog." He shrugged.   
  
"I was going to chase him back up to the willow. I never got a chance, because James saw him enter the passage and stopped him. I would like to apologize for letting you think I was trying to kill you, but you deserved it, you greasy git!"  
  
Sirius stopped then and glared at all three of them.  
  
Remus looked from Sirius to Severus.  
  
"I still wish you had left me out of your feud. That incident has haunted me for years." He frowned at Sirius.  
  
"I'm sorry, Moony." Sirius said contritely. "I truly felt bad about how hard you took it."  
  
Severus was staring at Sirius with an odd look in his eye, "Perhaps I would have deserved the joke as you had it planned. I think I might have mistook you for the Grim. On the other hand, what's to say I wouldn't have hexed you out of the way?"  
  
Sirius laughed. "When I was glowing with a green aura and my eyes were as bright as lumos spells?"  
  
Severus' eyes widened and he let out a short bark of laughter. "Right." He shook his head. "Yes, that was suitable revenge for the…er…broom incident."  
  
"I sure thought so." Sirius said. "You nearly killed me. I still have nightmares about rampaging broomsticks. It took me months for the ministry to approve my motorbike."  
  
"I was very careful." Severus insisted. "I put a height limit on it first. You wouldn't have gotten high enough to kill yourself."  
  
Harry had been watching them bicker; now he spoke. "Who started all of this anyway?"  
  
"He did." Sirius and Severus spoke at the same time, each pointing an accusing finger at the other.  
  
"You did." They said, again together; scowling and growling.  
  
"Stop it, both of you." Remus said. He stepped between them and pushed them apart, until they were both at arms length.   
  
"Neither of them started it, Harry." He glared from one to the other. "James started it."  
  
Both of the black haired men deflated and stared at Remus.  
  
"What?" Sirius demanded. "James?"  
  
Remus shrugged. "He got Severus good with a Fading Inkbomb. Severus blamed it on you, Sirius, because you were the most verbally offensive. Things just…well…escalated from there."   
  
He shook his head. "Culminating in the life threatening after four years of back and forth. Do you think you two can put it behind you now?" He crossed his arms.  
  
The two looked slightly sheepish.  
  
"Well, since neither of you got the last laugh." Harry said. "Admit that."  
  
They nodded.  
  
"Good then. It's over." Remus said. "Lets just all be friends, then."  
  
Severus and Sirius looked at each other skeptically.   
  
"O, civil acquaintances then." Remus amended. "Surely you can manage that for Harry's sake."  
  
"All right." Severus growled. "If you're telling the truth about…"  
  
"I certainly am. I so wanted to see your face when you saw me." Sirius grinned. "Civil, then?"  
  
"Civil." Severus agreed his lip curling. They shook on it.  
  
"Well, that is a relief." Harry said, looking at each of the adults in turn. "Now, I think most of us have classes to go to."  
  
Just then the bell at the end of lunch sounded.  
  
"Quite true, Harry." Severus said. "Sirius, Remus." He turned and swept out.  
  
"I think you have been a good influence on him, Harry." Lupin said. "I have a few things to say to Padfoot here, so I have a feeling you will not be later than your teacher." He winked.  
  
Harry grinned and hurried off the Defense classroom, filling Zinnia in on what had just happened.  
  
*****  
  
A/N – A note about Zinnia: She is currently a lot shorter than the lengths Harry mentions in the last chapter. It is almost the end of October, and so she is less than two months old. I would guess she is less than three feet long and very skinny around. I know very little about snakes of any kind. I am not a snake handler. Please excuse any mistakes I may make about this topic.   
  
ashley (and jessica) – what a profound compliment. I am honored. Truly and deeply  
  
Darth Stitch – I hope this fits the bill. *grin* Voldie in a tutu? *twitches slightly* What an odd thought.   
  
By the way, brownie points to anyone who can tell me Aunt Rose's full name before I post the chapter where we meet her. He he he. (It is still not typed, and I think there might be an unwritten segment still in between.) 


	22. More um ? Fights?

Let's just say that the disclaimers in the previous chapters still apply.  
  
A/N – For some reason this one was difficult to write. Very difficult. Teenagers, bah.  
  
Sadilou says Harry talks like I do… I guess she would know.  
  
Gusha waves at all the nice reviewers, just about two hundred reviews. We feel loved.  
  
*****  
  
Harry was too preoccupied to study that evening in the common room.  
  
"Harry!" Hermione said. "For the tenth time, will you pay attention?" She frowned. "What's gotten into you today?"  
  
Harry sighed and focused on her face.   
  
"Malfoy was lurking around when Severus and I came in from flying this morning." He said. "I need to figure out what to announce about our relationship and when."  
  
"Oh." Said Hermione, exchanging a glance with Ron.  
  
"The thing is... I'm getting used to him, but…" His voice trailed off helplessly.  
  
"You still haven't made up your mind about him, right?" Ron said. "He's been a git for four years and nice for two weeks."  
  
"Exactly." Harry said. "And it's nobody's business that I was adopted. I mean, I shouldn't have to defend that." He drummed the feather end of his quill on the table.  
  
"Well," Hermione mused. "We could start a rumor that it is a condition of Asphodel Maddis' will that you get along in order to inherit something jointly."  
  
"That's almost the truth." Ron said, becoming enthusiastic. "It could shut people up long enough that people are used to seeing you together."  
  
Harry smiled in relief. "I'll let Severus know at lunch tomorrow. Could you two set the rumors flying after that? I would rather not comment too much myself."  
  
"Sure." Hermione agreed. "I can tell Lavender and Parvati in strictest confidence. It will be everywhere by dinner. Now will you concentrate? The O.W.L.'s are just months away!"  
  
"Of course, Hermione." Harry said. He picked up his quill with a smile that would have reminded them of his father if they had ever seen Severus properly smile.  
  
There was peace at the table for about thirty seconds before Ron threw down his own quill.   
  
"This is nutters!" He exclaimed. "Why are we studying on the Friday before the first Hogsmead visit of the year?" He glared at Hermione. "And don't give me that 'the O.W.L.'s are only seven months away' look either." He pushed his chair back onto two legs.  
  
"Ron…" Hermione began.  
  
"So, Harry, are you looking forward to Hogsmead." Ron said, ignoring Hermione's sputtering.  
  
"I'm not going, actually." Harry said, tapping the feather of his quill on the palm of his other hand.  
  
Ron's chair came down with a bang. "Why ever not? It's just before Halloween. We need to stock up."  
  
"I'm going with Severus to meet my great aunt. I forgot about Hogsmead when I agreed to go." Harry bit his lip. "It has been…an interesting day."  
  
Harry grinned at his friends. "I guess you two will just have to make a date of it."  
  
Hermione blushed, Ron gulped. They looked at each other and away quickly.  
  
"I'll tell you what." Ron said, almost desperately. "I nicked a Zonkos mail order form from Fred and George. I'll go get it, and you can choose what you want. Then Hermione and I can pick it all up for you."   
  
Ron was up and halfway out of the room before Harry could protest.  
  
"Despite what you think, you're not helping." Hermione told him when Ron was safely out the door.  
  
Harry widened his eyes and pantomimed innocence.  
  
"Stop it, Harry. You know what I mean." Hermione said stiffly.  
  
"Can you honestly say that you don't have romantic feelings for him?" Harry asked.  
  
She shifted in her chair, refusing to meet his eyes.  
  
"Because I can tell you that he wishes he dared to risk our," He gestured between them and at the door to indicate Ron. "Friendship."  
  
"Harry…" Hermione began. He didn't interrupt her this time, but she paused anyway. "I do feel for him in ways that I don't feel for you." She admitted quietly. "But …" She paused again. "But I am afraid that it will affect our relationship." She made a similar circular movement to include all three of them.  
  
Harry nodded. Glad she finally admitted it aloud. "Hermione."  
  
She looked up at him.  
  
"It already has." Harry said gently. She opened her mouth, but he shook his head. "The tension between you is almost painful." He told her. "I am becoming less comfortable around you two when I need you the most."  
  
She drew in a deep, ragged breath. She blinked and looked around the room again. "What should I do Harry? What if our romance ends badly?"  
  
He smiled wanly at her. "Then we, all three of us, are incredibly unhappy."  
  
She snorted inelegantly and smiled back.  
  
"But if it never gets off the ground, we are incredibly unhappy anyway." Harry's mouth twisted wryly.  
  
"You look like him when you do that." Hermione said, suddenly cheerful.  
  
"What?" Harry said, twisting his expression into Severus' trademark scowl. "This?" He assumed another of his father's expressions. "Or this. Or…"  
  
"Stop." She said laughing. "That is just too scary."  
  
Harry grinned and settled back in his seat. "I have been practicing in the mirror. It catches Severus off guard."  
  
She laughed again.  
  
Something, perhaps movement in the doorway, caused Harry to look up just in time to see Ron scowl and turn back up the stairs.  
  
Harry stood, startling Hermione who was still mirthful.  
  
"What?" She said, staring up at him.  
  
"I just think I should go see what Ron is up to." Harry said. "I'll be right back."  
  
He strode off, leaving Hermione shaking her head. She tried to turn to her work and found she was too distracted to study.  
  
Harry caught up to Ron in their room. He was shredding a piece of parchment between his hands.  
  
"What?" He said, still scowling, as Harry entered.  
  
"I'm not sure." Harry said, picking up a scrap of parchment bearing the letters 'Zon' on it. "But I think I have a bit of an idea."  
  
"Why can't you just mind your own business?" Ron said bitterly. "We don't need you throwing us together every five minutes."   
  
His scowl faded and he turned his back on Harry. "It's not like she notices me that way with you around."  
  
"What?" Harry's jaw dropped open and he stared at his friends back. "There is nothing at all like that…"  
  
"Sometimes I don't think she even wants to be around me. I think she must put up with me just because…"  
  
"That is the most idiotic thing I have ever heard you say." Harry said angrily.   
  
"It's you she's comfortable with." Ron insisted, kicking the bedpost.  
  
"That's only because she doesn't think of me that way." Harry insisted. He growled. "Sometimes I don't know why I put up with you two."   
  
Harry stalked over to his desk and spoke to Zinnia. "I'm going out. Want to come?"  
  
She had barely time to hiss a negative before he stormed out of the room.  
  
"Hermione" Harry placed both palms on the table and leaned towards her. "Don't let the density of a fifteen year old boy stand in your way." She stared at him in mute surprise. "Go up there and pounce. I'm going out."  
  
He continued out the portrait hole.   
  
Harry wandered, or stalked, rather aimlessly. Just as his frustration was waning, he found himself in front of the entrance to the kitchens. He tickled the pear and entered.  
  
"Harry Potter, sir." Squeaked the nearest elf. "How may we be helping you, sir?"  
  
"I…" Harry hadn't thought that far ahead. "Could I have some hot milk please?" He requested after a moment.  
  
"Certainly, sir. At once." Within moments he was sitting in front of a fire, feet up and milk in hand.  
  
He was in just the right spot to observe the entrance of the kitchen's next nighttime visitor.   
  
Harry had never seen Draco Malfoy appear tender and kind before. He sat motionless, trying not to stare.   
  
When Malfoy entered the kitchens, Dobby, his family's old elf greeted him warmly.   
  
Malfoy knelt on one knee to be at eye level with the little elf and spoke to him, just as Severus always did. Harry couldn't make out what was being said over the din of closing the kitchen for the night.   
  
"Humby." Harry said quietly, intending to ask if Malfoy came often.  
  
The old elf was instantly at his side. "Yes, Young Master?"  
  
Harry looked at the old elf in surprise. Humby had never called him that before. Then again, Harry could not recall Humby ever speaking to him directly before.   
  
"Master Severus has explained all." Said the old elf shyly. "It is a family secret."  
  
"A family secret?" Malfoy's cold voice speculatively.  
  
Humby gasped and clasped both hands over his mouth. "Never, never, never…"  
  
"Shh." Said Harry. "Don't worry, Humby. Relax. Malfoy is not prying into your family's business."  
  
Humby peered up at the two boys. "Humby will fix a snack. Young…Harry Potter and his friend will want a snack."  
  
"Have a seat, Malfoy. Humby is bringing a snack." Harry gazed after the little elf. "Do you come here often?"  
  
"Have a seat? What would I do that for?" Malfoy glared.   
  
"It is better not to upset Humby." Harry said mildly, sipping his milk.  
  
"Better not to upset Humby?" Malfoy stared at him as if he had gone mad.  
  
"Listen," Harry said, eyes suddenly flashing anger. "I came here for some peace and quiet." There was a large crash as the shelves in one of the ovens were removed for cleaning. Harry winced slightly. "So if you cannot at least be civil, please find another corner of the kitchen to haunt."  
  
"You've changed, Potter." Malfoy said quietly.  
  
"Odd, you don't seem to have." Harry said. "Still the very image of your father."  
  
Malfoy's jaw clenched. "Why shouldn't I be?"  
  
"No reason." Harry said idly. "Come on; sit if you're going to stay."  
  
Malfoy sat, then pointedly took a book from his pocket and proceeded to ignore Harry. Harry drank his milk and stared into the fire, ignoring Malfoy.  
  
Humby appeared with the 'snack' a few minutes later. He set up a small table and magicked food onto it.   
  
"Dobby has helped with choosing Draco Malfoy's favorites, sir." The elf said before bowing away.  
  
Malfoy stared at the table in astonishment. He looked up at Harry.  
  
Harry shrugged and smiled a bit sheepishly. "Humby brought us a snack."  
  
There was less food than the average lunch in Severus' rooms, but more variety. It was all arranged with a level of care that went beyond even the formal banquets.   
  
"This doesn't change anything, you know." Malfoy said suddenly. "We have not suddenly become friends."  
  
Harry smiled his father's smile. "Naturally not." He said.   
  
Malfoy's eyes narrowed. "You have been spending a lot of time with Snape, haven't you?"  
  
Harry set his cup down and pushed away his footstool. He planted his feet firmly on the ground and looked Malfoy squarely in the eye. "I have. I was asked to by someone whose opinion I greatly respect. There is nothing…unnatural about our relationship, but we are slowly growing to like one another. Would you please respect that?"  
  
Malfoy gazed into his eyes, considering. Then he nodded and reached for a small pastry.  
  
Harry relaxed into his chair once more and chose a thin sandwich from the plate.   
  
The kitchens slowly quieted as work was completed for the day. After another half an hour of nibbling and thinking, Harry felt calm enough to return upstairs. He glanced at Malfoy, but decided not to speak to him again.  
  
"Dobby." He said instead.  
  
Dobby suddenly appeared beside him. "What can Dobby do for Harry Potter, sir?"  
  
"Is Humby resting, or is he still at work here?" Harry asked.  
  
Dobby's eyes widened. "I believe Humby is still working sir. He is usually the last one to stop, sir." His voice was squeakier than usual.  
  
"I would like to take what's left of this upstairs please." Harry said. "Was there anything you wanted to take with you, Malfoy?"  
  
"No, I'm fine." The other boy said, not looking up from his book.  
  
"Dobby will see to it sir." He bowed.  
  
"Humby." Harry said quietly.   
  
"Yes, sir?" The old elf said, suddenly at his elbow.  
  
"Why aren't you asleep yet?" Harry asked gently.  
  
"There is still work to do, sir." The old elf said with dignity.  
  
"Did Severus mention whether your joint potion would work even if you didn't rest?" Harry asked, probing a bit.  
  
Humby looked guilty. "Well, he might have mentioned side effects, sir."   
  
"Side effect? That sounds nasty. I think we should make it an order, Humby." Harry said. "I order you to rest every evening so that your potion does not have side effects."  
  
Humby whimpered a bit, but his face firmed almost immediately. "Is it work to rest when I don't want to?" He asked.  
  
Harry considered a moment. "Yes, I think it might be."  
  
"Humby will do this work for the yo…for Harry Potter, sir." His eyes darted around and he lowered his voice. "Only don't tell Master Severus that I am resting." He said.   
  
Harry grinned. "No, we won't let on, will we."  
  
Humby left to seek his bed, and Dobby stepped forward with Harry's parcel of food.  
  
"Harry Potter is a great wizard. This is a great thing for Humby, sir. We has been worried. All of us." Dobby ducked his head.  
  
"Thank you, Dobby." Harry said, and left the kitchens.  
  
Draco Malfoy watched him go, book lowered.  
  
*****  
  
A/N – I am not terribly surprised that no one has correctly placed Aunt Rose. It was very obscure and the clues are spread out over several chapters. The answer should be next chapter (unless it gets away from me) 


	23. Thornhollow

*****  
  
Disclaimer: JKRowling wrote the Harry Potter books, Dr Seuss wrote the Lorax, which I quote from (rather obscurely) in this chapter.  
  
A/N – Lets make this really clear: no slash. I just don't write it, sorry to all you slash fans.  
  
And by the way, I might have put in a Harry romance, but this is getting longer than I intended already. There will be enough chapters to wrap up the loose ends (5-10, lol), but then I want to move on to characters I like better. (Not to knock the Boy Who Lived, but he may be my least favorite character in the series.)  
  
Once again, I put this together without showing sadilou, so none of the mistakes can be pinned on her. (Although everything else in the world is definitely her fault)  
  
Yawn, I was up till midnight putting this together, so be grateful and review. And stop laughing at me, Gusha!  
  
*****  
  
Harry and Zinnia met Severus in his sitting room at midmorning. Harry was still not on the best of terms with Ron and Hermione.  
  
When he had gotten back to the common room the two of them had been arguing in a corner. Harry had given the food to a clutch of studying first years, much to their twittering delight. Then he had swept on up to bed. He had simply ignored his friends who did not even seem to notice him.  
  
Severus was reading in his favorite armchair when Harry pushed the painting open and entered.   
  
"Do I look alright?" Harry asked from the doorway. He was dressed casually in blue robes.  
  
"Yes, you look fine." Severus marked his place with a narrow ribbon and placed the book neatly on the table.   
  
"Obscure Eighteenth Century Enchantments?" Harry read off the cover.  
  
"Minerva and I are researching something." Severus said with a grimace. "Are you ready to go?"  
  
"Yes." Harry grinned.   
  
"I didn't tell Rose that we're coming." Severus said with a rather malicious smile. "I thought we would just stop in and surprise her." He rubbed his hands together. "Very well, let's go."  
  
Severus stood and led the way out of his rooms. Harry watched with interest as Severus pushed the painting closed and sent the red ball off into the painting.   
  
"How do you do that anyway?" Harry asked.  
  
Severus arched his brow. "`With great skillful skill and great speedy speed.'"  
  
"What?" Harry said, wondering if that was a quote, and whether he should be able to place it.   
  
"Never mind." Severus said. "Come along, this way."  
  
Severus led them around the castle. Up two little used stair cases, down one, to a musty alcove in an unused area of the school.   
  
He pulled out his wand and spoke. Harry jumped a bit, because the hissing sound was very clearly "Please do not bite me." A door appeared in the back of the alcove.  
  
Severus looked over at him sheepishly. "It used to be an obscure phrase in Russian, but I thought this might be less reproducible."   
  
"Right." Harry agreed.  
  
"Who bites?" Zinnia asked sleepily. "Don't bite Smelly Father."  
  
"Shh." Harry murmured. "No one is biting Severus."  
  
Severus opened the door and held it for Harry to enter the passage.   
  
Harry looked around with interest. There was a small room with an old easy chair and a great many candle holders. The candles lit themselves as he entered. Harry suddenly realized that the room was really a rather large landing at the top of a flight of narrow stairs.  
  
"What's the matter, Harry?" Severus asked smirking. "Did you think that the Marauders had a monopoly on secret passages?"  
  
"Um, well…" Harry began.  
  
"The Chamber of Secrets isn't on that map of theirs, is it?" Severus' eyebrows arched. He led the way down the stairs.  
  
"I never looked for it there, actually." Harry replied.  
  
"Oh? Not even in the middle of all the fuss in your second year?" Severus smirked, his point made.  
  
"The map was not in my possession at that time." Harry said. "But I suppose that the ones who did have it would have looked for the Chamber." He conceded.  
  
Snape nodded.  
  
"How did you know that this wasn't on the map" Harry asked.  
  
"Because I was very careful that no one knew I was excavating it." Severus grinned his most awful grin. "Didn't expect that, did you? Parts of it, the staircase and the landing were already there, but filled tightly with sand and rubble. It was hard work and then the passage stopped. So I extended it."  
  
Severus motioned to the little cart on tracks at the bottom of the stairs.  
  
"Climb on in. You wouldn't want to walk. It is about three times the distance to Hogsmeade."  
  
Harry was forcibly reminded of the twisting Gringotts vaults as the cart lurched into motion at the touch of Severus' wand.  
  
In just a few moments the cart stopped. Harry got out, a bit unsteadily.  
  
They were in what looked like a sort of cave. The walls were a rough in places, smooth in others and in a few places about the room, decorated with odd swirling relief patterns.  
  
The cave was furnished like a sitting room. There were chairs, tables and a couch, all arranged around a fireplace.  
  
Bookshelves dominated one wall. Harry wandered in that direction while Severus crossed to the fireplace.  
  
What Harry found was not quite what he had expected. There were two whole bookcases full of wizarding children's books. There was even a shelf of what looked like comic books.  
  
"Why Benjamin Busby Abhorred Cats." Harry muttered his finger an inch away from the spine of that book.  
  
There was an entire shelf devoted to "The Hair Raising Adventures of Archibald Eisner, Auror Extraordinaire." Volumes one thru thirty six.  
  
Severus finished setting the fire and stepped back to light it with his wand.  
  
"If you are quite finished?" He said mildly to Harry.  
  
"Sorry." Harry said, quickly joining Severus in front of the roaring blaze.  
  
"I am going to explain this to you; I only want to have to say it once so listen carefully. When this fire is lit it is the third grate on a Floo circuit that only ever contains three fires. The first is Alde Craig, our ancestral home." He flinched slightly but continued. "The second is at Rose Briar Cottage, where we are going shortly. If you ever see another grate in the line let me know at once, understand?"  
  
Harry nodded. "At once." He confirmed.  
  
"When this fire is out, as it always is unless it is in use, then this grate does not appear in the circuit and it cannot be accessed. This is very important, as it could jeopardize Hogwarts security. Never light the fire unless you plan to use it. Never leave the fire lit unless you plan to use it. Is that all clear."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"Good." Severus relaxed a bit. "Then you may use the room if you wish. Do not add it to your map, and try not to tell Granger and Weasely, for once in your life." Severus paused then modified his directive. "You can tell them, just do not show them where it is."  
  
"I promise." Harry agreed quickly.  
  
"If you are interested, you may read from the shelves down here." Severus wrinkled his nose. "Although I do not expect you to understand the books on the top three shelves on the right hand side. Now, before we go, I will show you the security measures."  
  
Severus strode over to the cart once more, Harry followed him. He traced his hands along the raised patterning on the wall.   
  
"Della had a lot of fun with this. The designs are shaped by magic, but the mechanism is not magical at all." Severus pointed to a part of the design. "You turn this knob three times to the right."   
  
He followed his own instruction. As the knob turned, a wall lowered into place. It completely and seamlessly blocked off the passageway to Hogwarts.   
  
The room was now a surreal box with no windows or doors.   
  
"One more thing." Severus walked to the wall across from the books. "This passage only opens if the way up to Hogwarts is closed."   
  
He took a hold of another piece of decorative stonework and pulled. A small doorway opened in the wall.  
  
"There is a small stairway up to the moors. Thornhollow Cottage is at the top of the hill." Severus pushed the knob back in and the door closed. "Once again, we leave it closed unless we are actually using it."  
  
"You now know the secrets of Thornhollow." Severus concluded. "It is the property that passes to you from Della."   
  
Severus crossed back to the fireplace and uncapped the jar on the mantle. "After you, Harry. Say Rose Briar Cottage."  
  
Harry took a pinch of the Floo Powder and threw it into the fire. "Rose Briar Cottage."  
  
The Floo circuit was different than the Network Harry had used before. The Network was a dizzying array of grates. The circuit was a long green tunnel of flame.  
  
Harry saw the grate ahead and had his softest ever exit from a fireplace. He was able to step calmly out of the fire without even stumbling. Harry decided that he would most likely have a far easier time of it in the future. He now knew what was supposed to happen, without interference from all of the other grates.  
  
"Hullo, who are you?" Asked a voice from across the room.  
  
*****  
  
A/N - Another Evil Cliffhanger. Gusha likes those. The other half to two thirds of this scene should be ready very soon. There is quite a bit more to fit into the visit to Aunt Rose (including the visit, hehehe.)   
  
I thought I would give ya'll one last chance to guess/find Rose's full name. No one has it yet, although several are close. 


	24. Rose Briar Cottage

Disclaimer: See previous chapters  
  
A/N – Once again I am posting with minimal editing. I just barely finished this, but I did not want to leave you hanging there, clutching desperately at the foliage to keep from falling off the cliff. Grin.  
  
Here, it has been less than 24 hours. Have the next chapter; it is quite a bit longer than average. There was a lot to fit in. I just hope the conversation is not too jumpy.  
  
Azure – for the sake of simplicity any kinship between James and Severus is so distant that it can be ignored. As for formality in my writing… I do the best I can. I really do try to put in all the contractions I see possible. I just have a hard time seeing them.   
  
  
  
Cerberis – Thank you for the snake info. I fear I have made more mistakes than that regarding Zinnia. Sigh.  
  
*****  
  
"Hullo, who are you?" Asked a voice from across the room.  
  
Harry jumped and turned toward the voice. "Harry Potter, ma'am." He said. A tall woman stood by a kitchen sink staring at him.  
  
Severus appeared behind him and stepped around him.  
  
"Rose!" He exclaimed. "You look spectacular, as always." He crossed the room and kissed her cheek casually. "Rose, may I present Harry…um…Potter. My son."  
  
"Oh dear." She reached behind her to find the chair and sat heavily. "So Della's child didn't die after all." She murmured.   
  
"Harry, I'd like you to meet my aunt, Rosemary Thornton." Severus finished the introductions. "I have asked Harry to join us for the holidays, if that is all right with you."  
  
"Does that mean you are actually joining me this year?" She asked, brow raised. He just nodded. "I think that is a lovely idea. You don't visit nearly enough. Come, sit, we'll have a cuppa tea."  
  
Rose gestured to the chairs around the kitchen table. Harry took a seat next to Severus.   
  
Harry could see the resemblance between Rose and Severus far more than he could see his own resemblance to them.   
  
"Um, Mrs. Thornton…" Harry began, thinking of something.  
  
"You had better call me Rose if we're to be related." She corrected smiling.   
  
"Rose." Harry repeated. "Did you write a book?"  
  
"A book? Why yes. Reading the Leaves, we called it. Odd title, if you ask me, but my editor seemed to like it. Have you seen it?" She bustled about the kitchen.  
  
"Yes, I have a copy." Harry said. "Professor Lupin gave me a copy as a birthday present this summer. It is very informative. Especially the section on alternative herbs for the divining medium. I had actually been using some of them already."  
  
"Well, this is a surprise, Sev." Rose said, seeming pleased. "Looks like the Thornton Gift may have a chance of survival after all."  
  
Severus harrumphed and started to slice the loaf of bread Rose set before him.  
  
"Would you care to prepare the tea, Harry?" Rose offered.  
  
"If you want me to." Harry said, flattered.  
  
Rose sat a tray of small stoneware jars in front of him and he began his usual ritual of sniffing and measuring. He crushed the resulting pile of leaves and transferred them to the teapot.   
  
Rose poured the water on. She set on cream, sugar, a plate of cakes, cheese, and sliced meat along with plates and cups and spoons.  
  
"Since you never sent an owl, Sev, I presume that you have not known long?" Rose said dryly. She buttered a slice of bread before constructing a sandwich on top of it.  
  
Her nephew blushed and mumbled something vague.  
  
"Pour the tea, Sev, there's a good lad." Rose instructed. "And don't be shy, Harry, eat up."  
  
Severus poured out the tea, and handed the cups around.  
  
"Cream and sugar, Harry" Rose asked.  
  
"No, thank you, ma'am." Harry smiled and chose a rich cake from the plate nearest him.  
  
"How are your classes going, Sev?" Rose stirred sugar into her own tea.  
  
"As well as can be expected." Severus replied with a small grimace. "As usual, there are very few students who actually understand potions, and fewer still that see the joy in them."  
  
"Indeed?" Rose smiled slightly. "And is Harry one of them?"  
  
Severus looked uncomfortable. His eyes sought Harry's.  
  
"No. I wouldn't say so." Harry said. "However, I have recently come to understand why Severus teaches the way he does. That understanding has led me to enjoy the subject more."  
  
"Really." Rose smiled broadly. "What sort of understanding?"  
  
"Even though I do not agree with it," Harry's eyes darted over to Severus. "I understand why he emphasizes discipline above all. Acting out can be very dangerous, after all."  
  
"But you don't fully agree with discipline?" Rose probed.  
  
"That's not what I meant." Harry shook his head. "I just feel that the class's fear of his enforcing that discipline is counterproductive."  
  
"Sev?" Rose turned to him inquiringly.  
  
"We have had this discussion many times." Severus protested. "Must we really go over it again?"  
  
Severus drained his cup quickly. He turned it properly and glanced into it. He didn't offer an interpretation. He just handed it to Harry.   
  
"So, Harry, what do you see?"  
  
Harry took the cup, not a little surprised. He looked in and flinched.  
  
"Pain." He said first. "Eventually ending. Maybe soon, maybe not."  
  
Harry swallowed hard and turned the cup. "If you look for joy you will find it."  
  
He looked into the cup from a third angle and sighed. "Release." He shook his head and looked up. "Release from what?" Harry shrugged and handed the cup back.  
  
Severus took it back, mouth agape. He peered into it again. "I feel like I am twelve again." He handed the cup to Rose.  
  
She looked into the cup briefly and turned to Harry smiling. "Seems like this part of the gift has skipped a generation. 'released from what' indeed. It could signify a release from pain, a release to joy or a release completely unrelated to the rest of the cup. It is not determinate. Very good job, Harry." She winked conspiratorially. "Sev was never good at reading the leaves."  
  
"I prefer to think of myself as above such foolishness." Severus said with great dignity.  
  
"We know, dear." Rose winked at Harry again. "It is a good thing that Harry and I know differently, or you would be completely insufferable."  
  
"Hey!" Severus protested, as Rose and Harry laughed at him.   
  
Zinnia chose that moment to emerge from one of her protected pockets.  
  
"New place." She complained. "Taste/Smell like family."  
  
"We are visiting Great Aunt Rose." Harry hissed soothingly. "This is her house."  
  
Rose's eyes widened when she saw Zinnia. "Harry." She said tensely. "There is a snake on your arm."  
  
Harry looked up. "Um, yes, there is. This is Zinnia. She is just a baby really."  
  
"She isn't… poisonous, is she?" Rose asked.  
  
"No, not at all." Harry said quickly. "She is a reticulated python."  
  
Rose relaxed. "A python. Well that's all right then." She smiled. "Marlow kept a python. It was trained to participate in the magic act."  
  
"Worry gone?" Zinnia asked. "I no more fear?"  
  
"She was afraid you were poisonous." Harry hissed.  
  
"I? Not I." Zinnia said. "Head hurt? Why? Arm hurt? Same?"  
  
"What do you mean dearling?" Harry asked, trying to soothe her. "Does your head hurt?"  
  
"No." She said. "Your head? Hurts? Your head."  
  
"I'm fine. I don't hurt at all." Harry told her.   
  
"Harry?" Rose said.  
  
"Yes?" Harry looked up.  
  
"Are you talking to that snake?" Rose asked.  
  
"Um, yes, I am." Harry said. "I, well, I'm a Parselmouth."  
  
"Right." Rose nodded. "I guess I might have read about that. Does she have anything interesting to say?"  
  
"Usually." Harry said. "She is a baby still, so sometimes she is a bit incoherent. She is babbling about being hurt at the moment. Not her, someone else, me maybe, but I'm fine."  
  
"So, how has business been, Rose?" Severus asked, changing the topic.  
  
She seemed a bit relived to move to a familiar topic. "Business has been especially good this year. It falls off now that summer is over, of course. There seemed to be more tourists than ever this year."   
  
"It was very hot in the South this year." Harry offered. "It drove more people to the coast to get away. What sort of business do you do?"  
  
"What? You don't know? Sev didn't tell you?" Rose looked seriously take aback.  
  
"No, ma'am." Harry looked over at Severus. "He just asked me to come with him to see you."  
  
"Oh." She grinned. "I tell fortunes, Harry. Most of my clients are Muggle tourists, but I do some work for the ministry as well. Plus the profits from my book, of course."  
  
"Don't the Muggles notice?" Harry asked.  
  
Severus snorted over his lunch, but didn't say anything.  
  
"I am well known as the village witch." Rose explained. "No one in the village takes it very seriously. It's as if I were a common, Muggle fortune teller. The gypsy blood helps, I suppose." She grinned. "I make sure that no one ever sees anything to change their mind."   
  
"Sort of like hiding in plain sight?" Harry commented.  
  
"Yes, exactly that." Rose agreed. She gestured towards a framed certificate on the wall. "Even that is seen as a joke."  
  
Harry looked at the paper. He stared and his mouth dropped open. It had the Ministry of Magic seal on it.  
  
"Yes, my official permit to take money from Muggle customers. Harder to come by these days. It used to be that every village hereabouts had one or two licensed magickers, but times have changed. The ministry official thought it was great good fun to have it displayed like that. I mostly just tell fortunes or sell weak love potions and healing draughts."  
  
"Oh." Harry said. "I am studying divination in school. It often seems…"  
  
"Like guesswork?" Rose offered. "Or charlatanry?"  
  
"Yes." Harry said uncomfortably.  
  
"Well, it can seem to be." Rose sipped her tea placidly. "Your Professor is Sibyll Trelawney, correct?"  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
"Sibyll was always most interested in manufacturing the air of mystery about her." Rose said, appearing to be somewhere between amused and disgusted. "A small measure of theatricality is necessary, of course, but when taken to extremes it becomes silliness." She shook her head. "Sibyll always was prone to silliness. Learn your lessons, Harry. Try to ignore the silliness."  
  
"Yes, ma'am." Harry looked at Severus. Suddenly his eyes lit up. "Severus? You were apprenticed to a fortune teller?"  
  
Severus straightened his spine. "A Diviner." He corrected with dignity.  
  
"Yes, he was my apprentice." Rose grinned. "I imagine that you have met Sev's theatrical side. He uses it in class, for one thing."   
  
Harry thought for a moment. His mouth opened, closed, and opened again. "Yes, I think I have seen that side of him." He said finally. "I didn't realize until recently that he actually has a sense of humor."  
  
Severus scowled at them both.  
  
"Well, it hardly fits in with his image, does it?" Rose's eyes danced, but managed to keep her face straight. "Very image conscious is our Severus."  
  
"I do not know to what you are referring." Severus said in a very formal manner.  
  
Rose almost choked on her laughter.  
  
"What?" Severus demanded, not holding on to his straight face.  
  
"Well, that looked so much like the impression you used to do of Marlow the Magnificent." She broke off again, laughing.  
  
Severus almost laughed, but suppressed it. "It did not. That's my best teaching voice!"  
  
Harry laughed at that.  
  
"No respect." Severus complained. "I never should have brought him here. I almost had him giving me the respect I deserve."  
  
"Only that?" Rose asked, managing to almost control her mirth. "Seems to me that you used to aim higher. So, will you stay for dinner, Sev?" Rose asked. "Or is the company too cheery?"  
  
Severus looked inquiringly at Harry. Harry nodded slightly.  
  
"Yes, I believe we shall stay." Severus replied.   
  
"So, who is Marlow the Magnificent?" Harry asked.  
  
"One of the other sideshows at the Muggle circus we used to travel with." Rose said. "We traveled with two circuses for several summers, a Wizarding and a Muggle one. When we were with the Wizarding circus, Sev was in a broom trick show with two of his cousins. When we were with the Muggle circus sometimes he was Marlow's assistant, sometimes he helped at my fortune tent and sometimes…" She paused to see how Severus was taking these revelations about his past.  
  
"Sometimes." He drawled. "I was the clown."  
  
Harry almost choked. "You? The clown? With big shoes and lots of face paint?" He said incredulously.  
  
Severus nodded. "It takes quite a lot to be a clown." He said seriously. "Don't let it get around." He warned. "Relative or not, you would be very sorry."  
  
"No, it wouldn't do, would it?" Harry squinted at his father, trying to imagine him in white face paint, with a big red nose and a clown grin. He couldn't quite see it.  
  
Suddenly, without warning, the scar on Harry's forehead erupted in blinding pain. He cried out and clutched at it.   
  
In the same moment, Severus gasped and seized his arm.  
  
Harry braced for a vision of some kind, but none came. The pain subsided and Harry took an uneven breath.  
  
"Um…" Rose watched them both. "What? I mean…"  
  
"I'm all right." Severus said, teeth clenched. "Harry?"  
  
"Fine, I think." Harry said. "It hasn't done that to me in a long time."   
  
Severus eyed him. "You didn't see anything, did you?"  
  
"No, which is a bit odd as well." Harry said.   
  
Severus shook his arm, grimacing slightly.  
  
"Are you sure you boys are all right? I have a poultice…"  
  
"Nothing works, Rose." Severus said. "I have tried a great many things." He shook his head. "Short of Voldemort himself releasing me, there does not seem to be a cure."  
  
Rose winced at the name.  
  
Harry looked up at Severus, puzzled.  
  
"Did you think I'd be afraid to say his name?" He laughed mockingly. "I who looked him in the eye and lied to him?"  
  
Harry nodded in understanding.   
  
Severus sighed. "You both might as well know that Voldemort has been torturing me through the mark. It burns all the time, but sometimes, like just now, it hurts almost as bad as a Cruciatus curse."  
  
Harry placed his hand on Severus' arm where the mark lay.   
  
"I wish it didn't hurt you." Harry said quietly.  
  
Severus' eyes widened.  
  
Harry snatched his hand back. "Sorry, I…"  
  
"No." Severus said. He pulled up his sleeve, bareing the Mark. "Put your hand back on it." Severus offered his arm back to Harry. "Will it to stop hurting as you just did."  
  
"What?" Harry blinked. Then he placed his hand directly on the pulsating Dark Mark. "I really wish you were not in pain."  
  
All three of them watched as the symbol faded from the black of caked blood to a healthier looking brown.  
  
"You are the key, Harry. Your link to Voldemort is the key." He smiled in relief. "We need to talk with Minerva."  
  
"I guess dinner is off then?" Rose asked dryly.  
  
"It might be best." Severus said.  
  
"Harry?" Rose said speculatively.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"What exactly did that snake say about hurting?" She asked.  
  
"Well, she wanted to know why my head hurt, and she asked about…" Harry's mouth dropped open. "I think she asked about your arm. She wanted to know if the hurt was the same hurt."  
  
"I think you should listen to that little snake." Rose said. "Has she predicted anything before?"  
  
"No…" Harry started, then he remembered Neville. "Wait a moment. I think she has."  
  
"I wouldn't be surprised." Rose said. "I have a feeling she will be very good to have around."  
  
"We should get back to the castle." Severus said. "If Voldemort is thinking about us, he may perceive that we are not there."  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
They stood and Flooed back to Thornhollow.  
  
*****  
  
A/N – I really do not care if you think my Severus is completely out of character. I think so too. I like him this way. Hehehe. Sev was a clown. Hehehe. 


	25. Aftermath

Disclaimer: Aw, not mine. You didn't think it was did you?  
  
A/N - Well, reading OotP was a bit of a jolt. I am not planning to include much in the way of spoilers for it. A few concepts may cross over, but in general, this fic is firmly Alternate Universe.   
  
So much for the theory that summer = time to write. It turns out that summer = lack of things to procrastinate = procrastination of the things that delay other things.   
  
Did that make sense?  
  
A bit of blood and gore coming up. We are about to earn our rating… or something like that. I just thought I'd warn you.  
  
The long awaited chapter twenty-five:  
  
*****  
  
Harry hurtled down the glowing green tunnel. He could see the grate coming close.  
  
He realized suddenly that it was the wrong one. This grate glowed; a dull, angry brown that might have been red if not for the green of the tunnel.  
  
Harry twisted away from the unfamiliar grate. As he did so, a pale hand reached for him through the throbbing brown.  
  
Harry sped past the clutching hand, spinning slowly. When he was past it, he looked forward. There was another intrusive grate. This one was on the other side of the tunnel. Harry wrenched the other way to avoid this grate as well. Another spectral hand groped after him.  
  
Half a second later the bright beckoning Thornhollow grate loomed ahead of him. He stepped through quickly and drew his wand.  
  
Severus was right behind him. The older man whipped out his own wand and pointed it into the grate. He spoke, a long incantation. He enunciated each syllable carefully. The fire grew suddenly blazingly hot and then it died completely.  
  
"That collapsed the circuit. Anyone in it should be propelled back to their grate of origin." He shook his head. "Theoretically. Let's go."  
  
Severus strode quickly to the wall disguising the way to Hogwarts. He opened the passage and climbed quickly into the mine cart. Harry was seconds behind him and the cart sped off immediately.  
  
Severus stopped them about halfway through the tunnel. He got off and Harry followed, a bit confused.  
  
"Start walking towards Hogwarts," Severus ordered. "I'll be right behind you."  
  
Harry obeyed wordlessly. He walked quickly down the tunnel without looking back. He sensed Severus' presence beside him and looked up.   
  
"Perhaps I should have shown you that as well." Severus rubbed the back of his neck wearily. "There is a diversionary tunnel. It ends up in the middle of a rather uncomfortable bog. Once again, the mechanism is not magical. Della and I hoped that a wizard would not look for a non-magical trick. Hopefully only the cave and the tunnel will be compromised." They walked along the tracks for a while.  
  
"What about the cart?" Harry asked, almost tripping on a rail.  
  
"Speeding towards the bog empty." Severus grinned. "It wouldn't do to leave it where the tunnels split. That would be mighty suspicious."  
  
Harry nodded and they trudged on.  
  
"Are you hurt at all?" Severus asked after several weary moments.  
  
"No," Harry answered simply. "You?"  
  
Severus rubbed his left shoulder experimentally. "I hit the side of the tunnel avoiding the second grate," he admitted, "but I think I'll survive."  
  
They reached the stairway and began to climb.  
  
Harry had expected to feel reassured when they reached the school. However, when they left the secret passageway, his feeling of tension only increased. Before long they came to a corridor Harry recognized.  
  
"There is something not quite right going on." Severus frowned slightly. "Can you find your way from here?"   
  
"Yes, I think so."   
  
"Go right to your tower, Harry," Severus ordered. "Don't stop on the way. I will see you at dinner."  
  
*****  
  
Severus watched his son disappear around a bend in the corridor. His jaw hardened and he swung around to stalk off in the opposite direction.  
  
There was something very wrong with the aura of the school. Aura was not quite the right word, of course, but it fit well enough.   
  
The usual joy, pain and angst produced by several hundred teenagers was gone. It was replaced by more adult feelings of fear and anger and…   
  
Severus stopped himself. That line of thought only contributed to the overall tension he was feeling. It was quite possible that he was just reacting to the breach in his own security.  
  
Severus emerged into the Great Hall through the door behind his seat. It had not alarmed him that he had encountered no students up to this point. There were places in the school that students simply did not frequent.  
  
However, a completely empty Great Hall at lunchtime (even if it was a Hogsmeade weekend) compounded his apprehension.  
  
Severus practically ran to the hearth. He drew his wand and invoked a complicated set spell that he and Dumbledore had arranged.   
  
"Albus!" He called, only half believing that the Headmaster would, or even could answer him.  
  
"Severus!" Exclaimed the head in the flames. "What a relief! Where is Harry?"  
  
"Safe. I sent him up to Gryffindor Tower. What is going on?"  
  
Dumbledore looked much relived and at least a year younger.   
  
"Then all of the students are accounted for." A small smile played about his eyes. "We don't even seem to have any fatalities. Come join us in the entry hall. I will explain what I know while we help Poppy."  
  
Dumbledore's head disappeared from the fire, leaving Severus relived, yet still confused. Fatalities? He said there were no fatalities?  
  
Severus left the Great Hall. His eyes widened and his nose twitched in revulsion. The entrance hall greatly resembled a war hospital.  
  
Scores of students of all ages and all houses rested on hastily conjured cots. More children stood or sat in huddles or weary lines. House elves scurried about, dispensing ice packs, clean rags and soup.  
  
The students all had been injured in some way. Many of them were clutching bloody rags to their injuries. Most were silent, but the few who were not made up for them.   
  
Severus had not seen so much human suffering since… Well, he wasn't going to think about that, was he? His fingers sought the scar on his side.  
  
Severus surveyed the scene again, forcing himself to evaluate. It was not as bad as he had feared at first. Less than a quarter of the school was present.   
  
The prefects and all of the teachers were there, speaking to the injured.  
  
Poppy was there, looking extremely harried. She was flitting from injury to injury. She seemed to be doing more instructing of others than actual healing.   
  
Good. That would conserve her strength. There were too many injuries for her to bespell them all. She would collapse of exhaustion.  
  
Dumbledore appeared to be assisting her; his wand was out.  
  
Severus took a shallow breath and entered the seething mass of suffering.   
  
"What can I do?" He asked when he reached Poppy.  
  
"I am almost out of blood-clotting cream." Poppy said, not looking up. "This is the last of the burn-healing paste." She smeared it on Vincent Crabbe's arm as she spoke. "Some more wound-cleaning potion would help as well."  
  
"I have all of those in stock," Severus said. "Humby?"  
  
The elf appeared.  
  
"Go to my store room behind the advanced classroom," Severus instructed. "There will be quantities of healing potions on the left-hand wall. Bring what you can carry, have some of the others help you. Especially bring blood-clotting cream, burn-healing paste, and wound-cleaning potion."  
  
The old elf nodded grimly and left to gather help.  
  
Severus turned back to Dumbledore. Poppy was again engrossed in her work.  
  
"What happened, Albus?" Severus asked.   
  
"Hogsmeade was attacked." The older man said. "Death Eaters, all looking for Harry."   
  
Dumbledore preformed a healing charm at Poppy's direction.  
  
"When they didn't find him?" Severus looked around the room in comprehension.  
  
"Explosions, flying curses, several beasts set loose. I am afraid Hogsmeade will be slow to recover." Dumbledore shook his head. "A few of the older students tried to put together a resistance force." Dumbledore gestured to a row of cots. "Apparently torture was more popular than killing. As I said before, none of our students have died."  
  
Severus realized with a wince that all of the sixth and seventh year students sleeping dreamlessly in the row had been struck down by the Cruciatus Curse.  
  
"And none will." Poppy broke in, looking up at him. "Although several may spend an uncomfortable few nights. I am not mending bones today and possibly not even tomorrow." She shook her head in despair. "The worst cases have been dealt with."  
  
Severus hesitated a moment before saying unsteadily, "I can mend bones." He avoided eye contact with his colleagues. It was an odd bit of magic that not everyone could master. "The only problem is that… Well, I…."  
  
"Severus?" Dumbledore asked softly.  
  
"I use a modified..." Severus gritted his teeth. "The truth is that I curse them whole."  
  
"Then…" Poppy began, wincing.  
  
"Yes. It sort of hurts a lot when I do it." Severus admitted. "But it is effective."  
  
"Do it." Poppy ordered. "Start near the front doors."  
  
*****  
  
athenakitty – What exactly does "pop Voldie's clogs" mean? I am not familiar with the phrase. 


	26. Sev's Bedside Manner

Disclaimer: Come on people, it just isn't mine.  
  
Author Notes: Well, it seems that perhaps I have been slow updating. I just did some quick calculations. If I am correct (which is improbable because I am horrible with math) I have been posting for 145 days. This means that I average one chapter every five and a half days. Of course this is skewed by the fact that the last two chapters took about a month each to post. Sigh.   
  
I am sincerely grateful to everyone who reviewed. Hearing people say they stayed up all night reading my story is incredible. I love you people. Now, on with the show!  
  
*****  
  
Harry hurried off towards Gryffindor Tower. He became more and more uneasy as he went.   
  
He tried to convince himself that it was simply quiet as on any Hogsmeade weekend.  
  
It was not particularly comforting.  
  
Harry scarcely realized that he broke into a run. If he had thought about it, he would have welcomed being stopped by an authority figure. He would have gladly embraced having points docked if only he could see another living person. Even a ghost would do.  
  
Harry reached the portrait hole gasping and out of breath. For one, terrifying moment he could not recall the password.  
  
"Tithonium Chasma." He finally wheezed.  
  
The Fat Lady obligingly swung forward.  
  
He entered the common room and was staggered to see a large crowd of his fellow Gryffindors staring at the doorframe he occupied.  
  
"Harry!" cried dozens of voices in unison, followed quickly by a score of indecipherable questions.  
  
"What happened?" He asked when there was a lull in the din. "Why aren't you all in Hogsmeade?"  
  
There was another dense eruption of voices.  
  
"Quiet, all of you!" One voice rang out over the general babble. The crowd parted as everyone stared in amazement at Neville Longbottom.  
  
"We were in Hogsmeade, Harry." Neville explained. "A great horde of Death Eaters was there as well. They all seemed to be looking for you. Where were you?"  
  
"I was with Sev – Professor Snape. We went to visit his aunt." Harry cringed inwardly as he gazed into the disconcerted faces of his housemates. "Is everyone all right? Where are Ron and Hermione?" He looked around for other missing faces. "And Dean and Colin, Stacia and Dylan and Ginny and…"  
  
Neville broke in. "Most of them are still in Hospital. They sent all the uninjured up to the common rooms as soon as the carriages brought us back. There hasn't been any news."  
  
Harry breathed deeply. "I think I need to sit down." He made for an overstuffed chair and a group of second years moved to let him pass.  
  
"What were you doing visiting Snape's aunt?" Neville asked, slipping into an empty chair nearby.  
  
Harry paused, considering and then decided to continue his policy of telling the truth while omitting the details. "She has asked me to visit her for Christmas, so I thought it might be nice to meet her."  
  
"Right." Neville sat back, eyes narrowed. He looked around at the assembled Gryffindors, as if noticing them for the first time. "Clear off, you lot. He'll say more if he wants to, it doesn't help to hover."  
  
"I don't want to." Harry said quietly. "I think I will just sit here and study." He drew his wand. "Accio Potions textbook." He said. When the book arrived, Harry opened it and began studying without another word.  
  
*****  
  
Severus started for the front doors, wincing inwardly at what he had offered to do. He had never learned the proper bone mending spell. His father – a muscle twitched near his eye - had been fond of curses.   
  
And hexes, and jinxes, and charms he could use to insult, injure or annoy. It was a very good thing that the man seldom dabbled in potions. Otherwise Severus never would have gotten past his sixth birthday.  
  
The curse Severus had modified to mend bones instead of breaking them had proven quite useful over the years. He had been his own most frequent patient. A trick rider was frequently injured when learning new stunts.   
  
Remembering that, Severus winced again. He'd promised Harry that he would teach him some stunts. He vowed inwardly that there would always be a net.  
  
Severus surveyed the ragged line of students sitting and standing along the wall near the front doors. He stopped suddenly and swallowed hard, his mouth was suddenly dry.  
  
Closest to the doors was a boy wearing a burgundy jumper that clashed terribly with his red hair. A very familiar mop of red hair attached to the head of his son's best friend.  
  
Severus blinked, keeping his customary dignity with difficulty.  
  
He forced himself to take a deep breath. "Right." He said to himself. He continued towards the line of injured students.  
  
"Weasely." He said tersely when he was close. "Where are you injured?"   
  
"Left arm." The boy said, indicating his forearm with his other hand. "Are you here to bandage us?"  
  
Severus bared his teeth in a grimace. "No. I have been sent to mend minor bone fractures." He drew his wand. "Can you lift the arm?"  
  
Weasley complied awkwardly with a hiss of pain.  
  
Severus whispered a spell that bared the boy's arm. A second word evaluated the injury. Severus nodded. "This will be easier if you sit on the floor."   
  
Severus offered Weasely his hand to help him ease onto the floor. "That's right, sit against the wall. Draw your knees up. Yes, that's right. Place your left hand on your knee. Good."   
  
Severus took a deep breath and placed his wand on the site of the break.  
  
"Brace yourself, Weasley," Severus warned. "This will hurt a great deal."  
  
The boy's eyes widened in shock. He clenched his teeth and nodded.  
  
"Occurri exos adflixi." Severus said in a commanding tone. *  
  
The boy did not scream. Severus was rather impressed. He had screamed the first time he had tried that on himself.   
  
"Favor it for a few days. No heavy lifting for a week. Stretch out those muscles. There will be quite a bruise there come morning." Severus was about to turn to his next patient.  
  
"Thank you, Professor." Weasely said in a strained voice.  
  
Severus turned his attention back to his son's friend. He was looking up, jaw clenched tightly and eyes filled with tears.   
  
"Your bedside manner could use some work." The boy ventured after a few moments of eye contact.  
  
Severus smiled slightly. "I imagine it could." He looked at the frightened row of students he was about to treat. "Would you like to help?" He asked, looking back at the boy. "The fabric moving spell is simple enough to learn. Assuming you haven't snapped another wand."  
  
Weasely smiled wanly and produced his intact wand. "Lead on, Professor." He got awkwardly to his feet.  
  
"Good. The spells are simple enough, but, as you no doubt know, repetition of any spell is exhausting after a while." Severus turned to the next patient. "McFarland, where are you injured?"  
  
*****  
  
A/N – Right. Does that clarify anything?   
  
The lights went out in Memphis. Our internet connection is still tenuous. If you want to read my eyewitness account of the horrible storm we had last week, e-mail me or tell me in your review. I haven't finished it yet, it is getting long. Grin.  
  
*- I believe that this incantation roughly means "counteract bone shatter" in very very bad Latin. I got the Latin words from http://www.nd.edu/~archives/latin.htm I know nothing about Latin grammar. I believe that may be obvious to any student of the language. 


	27. Unsettling Realizations

Disclaimer: Consider it a given that I did not create the Harry Potter Universe.  
  
A/N – Well, another chapter so soon? I am shocked. Gusha is amazed (and insufferably annoying about it)  
  
This chapter is basically about tying up a very important, if obscure, loose end from all the way back in chapter four. You didn't even notice it, did you? La la la la la.  
  
*****  
  
The old harbor district was not a place a decent person lingered after dark, or before dark for that matter. The water was grimy. It was only beginning to recover from Muggle abuse. They would still be at it to if not for the diligent labor of their enviro-whatsits.   
  
A huddle of buildings sulked along the damp and deserted pier. Among them was a once abandoned warehouse.   
  
It was the sort of building that waits forlornly for someone to notice it and tear it down. If it were capable of thought or emotion the building would have been shocked and surprised that it was occupied at all. The same could be said of the Muggle who owned the place.   
  
The inhabitants of the rickety, old structure knew very well when to make themselves scarce. The most obvious clue, of course, was the howling rage of the almost-person in the center of the main room. Only slightly less obvious was the loud popping and whizzing of spells flung at anything that looked breakable and anyone who happened to be flushed from their hiding place.  
  
The Dark Lord was not happy.   
  
The cowering figures hiding in the shadows knew this. They also knew why.   
  
Potter.  
  
Potter and Snape had both escaped them.   
  
One of the spells hit a metal girder, an integral support of the roof. It melted in one spot. The weakened building groaned and shook in response.   
  
A large rotting crate levitated crazily into a wall with a sickening thud. That was the last straw for the tired old building. It collapsed with a great and final moan.   
  
Only one man did not Apperate away in time. His hulking body was abandoned, still breathing, beneath the rubble.   
  
*****  
  
A great many miles away, Harry Potter woke in sudden pain. He clutched at his forehead. The pain subsided slowly.  
  
Harry took a deep breath and relaxed into the large chair that cradled his body.   
  
"Harry?"   
  
Harry looked up at Neville. "I'm all right." Harry said. "Bad dream. Have we heard anything?"   
  
"No." Neville shook his head, still watching Harry intently. "It's almost dinner time. If they don't give us information soon we are sending someone to ask."  
  
Harry closed the book sitting on his lap. "How long have I been asleep?"   
  
"About two hours, I suppose." Neville said, shuffling a deck of cards.   
  
Harry looked about. There were fewer students than before, but the common room was still unusually crowded. Everyone was studying or talking softly. Harry had seldom seen the room so subdued.  
  
Neville laid out his cards in a clock solitaire pattern on the low table between them. "Do you want to talk about it?" He asked, not looking up.  
  
"No." Harry said quickly. "I'm fine."  
  
Neville shrugged. "Just thought it might help. I can understand not wanting to, but it does help to talk." He didn't look up as he worked through his solitaire game.  
  
"Thanks anyway." Harry said. He rose and stretched sleepily.   
  
Harry made his way up to his room and let Zinnia into her terrarium.   
  
He shook his head. He hadn't had a dream about Voldemort in a long time. Why now? Was it just stress from their near miss and worry about Ron and Hermione?  
  
Harry threw his book onto his desk. He kicked off his shoes and stretched out on his bed. He laced his fingers and placed them behind his head on the pillow. He wrinkled his nose and blew out a loud breath.   
  
Perhaps the dream really was a vision of where Voldemort had been. Even if it was, what was the likelihood of finding it, given only the information in the dream?   
  
It could be any port town in Britain, anywhere in the world. Harry resolved to tell Severus everything he could recall right after dinner.   
  
His eyes focused and refocused aimlessly as his thoughts wandered.  
  
Suddenly he shot up. He stared at the three odd assemblages of feathers, beads, leather and string hanging over his pillow. He stood on his bed to get a closer look.   
  
He touched the Native American dream catcher Sirius had given him for his birthday. There was dust on the hoop.  
  
Beside it was the small leather bag Mrs. Weasely had sent him practically as soon as he had gotten to the Dursleys. It had beads hanging from the bottom fringe and still smelled faintly of sage and coriander. She told him it would soften the nightmares. She was sure he would have them when the shock of Cedric's death eased.  
  
The last object was from Hermione. Another talisman against unpleasant dreams. She read about it in Romania and made it for him. It was a little face with feathers for hair and beard. It smiled benevolently at him.  
  
Harry lay back on his bed feeling slightly guilty. What information could he have observed if he hadn't had them? Could they have caught Voldemort before now? Were his visions even true visions?  
  
He stood, restlessly and jammed his feet back into his shoes. He thudded back own to the common room. People looked up as he entered.  
  
He flopped back into the seat across from Neville.  
  
"Neville, maybe I've changed my mind." He said.  
  
Neville set down his cards and looked up. "All right." He sat back in his chair.  
  
"I…"   
  
Harry got no further. The portrait hole opened. Everyone in the room surged out of their chairs and stared into the open portal.  
  
"Hermione." Harry cried. "Are you all right?"  
  
She smiled wanly. "Yes. I had a cut is all." She gestured at the tattered sleeve of her robes. A white bandage could be seen through the bloody fabric.  
  
"They sent me up to call the house down to dinner." She looked wearily around at the crowd that had quickly gathered around her. "The entry hall is finally clear. They had the prefects help with the wounded, or they would have sent word sooner. I can tell you that no one has died, and all students are accounted for."  
  
"What about Ron?" Harry asked.  
  
Suddenly more voices called out names. Hermione held up her hands.   
  
"Quiet." She said. "The worst of the injured are in the hospital wing. The rest are in the Great Hall. Madame Pomphrey decided walking up and back would be too much for the recently injured. She wanted them where they could be watched."  
  
"Ron?" Harry asked quietly.  
  
She smiled. "He's fine. He broke his arm, I think. I last saw him helping Snape." She drew another deep breath, trembling. "I am so glad to see you safe, Harry. They were looking for you."  
  
"I know." He shook his head. "I…"  
  
Hermione cut him off with a wave of her hand. "Everyone should go down to dinner. I need to change. Go on, Harry, I'll catch up."  
  
The crowd let her through, everyone starting to speak at once. Harry let the momentum of the group propel him down to the Great Hall.  
  
*****  
  
A/N - There, see, you didn't think I thought about why Harry had "Not a twinge all summer." Did you? It was just my pacifist nature or something, right? He he he.  
  
I had this ready last night, but the site wouldn't let me post. Sigh. 


	28. He's not so bad after all!

Disclaimer: I might as well do this properly every once in a while. JK Rowlings came up with the Harry Potter Wizarding World. I am only borrowing it for a while. She has said in interviews that she is flattered by fanfiction. I would not presume to write in her world if I did not believe she might approve.  
  
A/N – Well, the tone has changed rather dramatically in the past few chapters hasn't it? I suppose a few months of not writing will do that to a story.   
  
I still hope to be finished fairly soon. Although every time I finish an – admittedly short – chapter, there seems to be just as much still to write.  
  
sadilou keeps bugging me about that. Sigh. (Gusha gripes that she was forced to beta this time, because sadilou was at work.) *sadilou retorts that Gusha should wait until she gets home, and she'll be happy to beta for her. Of course, the internet went down before Gusha could post, just so that sadilou could beta(giggle)*   
  
(Ignore Gusha. I would like to note that she is delusional. Neither her grammar nor her spelling are up to editing standards.)  
  
*****  
  
Severus sagged against the wall, breathing slowly and carefully. His gaze rested on his young assistant.   
  
Weasley had done surprisingly well. After practicing the disrobing spell on his own arm half a dozen times, he had even been able to do it gently.  
  
The row of minor broken bones had been cursed whole without difficulty. Madam Pomphrey had then sent them to evaluate the more serious breaks - the ones where limbs had been crushed or where the shards broke the skin.   
  
Severus had healed as many as were within his abilities. The others were sent up to the Hospital Wing with one of the house elves. Not before being doused with enough Dreamless Sleep Potion to keep them knocked out for two days.  
  
They had just sent their last healed patient into the Great Hall to wait for dinner.   
  
The strain of fatigue, exertion and recent injury were evident in Weasley's young face.  
  
"That last one was really dreadful." The boy said, wincing. He placed his wand carefully in his pocket.  
  
"You did well." Severus said softly. "Ten points to Gryffindor, if that still matters." The correct change was reflected in the row of hourglasses. "Ah, I see it does. For now at least."  
  
Weasley jumped as if startled. Then his mouth dropped open in a most unbecoming manner.  
  
"Let's see the arm again, Weasley." Severus' mouth twisted.  
  
Severus waved his wand and the sleeve of the burgundy jumper revealed the injured arm once again. Where the break had been, the arm was bruised to the bone in an odd encircling band.  
  
Severus winced, remembering similar injuries. "That looks awful already. I know another spell. Do you want me to…?"  
  
Weasley flinched, he began to pull his arm away and then seemed to change his mind. He held his forearm out. "Go ahead. Will this one hurt?" He asked, more wearily than fearfully.   
  
"No this one doesn't hurt." Severus assured him solemnly.   
  
"All right then."  
  
Severus murmured the spell and watched the dark stain of internal blood fade.  
  
The boy sighed. Severus used the spell to pull his sleeve back down.  
  
"So." Severus said with an odd look. "That spell to move cloth? I won't tell you never to use it on your girl." Weasley's eyes widened. "Giving you ideas, am I? Just see that you have her permission before you try it. You can get in a great deal of trouble otherwise."  
  
Weasley nodded, a slightly incredulous look on his face.   
  
Severus put his wand away. "And especially don't tell anyone who you learned it from." He shuddered. "That goes double for your mother."  
  
Weasley nodded. "That goes without saying, sir."  
  
"Let's go in to dinner." Severus surveyed the entry hall without stirring from his place on the wall.  
  
A few scattered students were performing scouring spells on the bloodied stone steps. Dobby the House Elf was levitating the last slumbering serious injury out of the hall. Severus squinted to make out the features. Was that Draco Malfoy? Should Dobby really be trusted with his safe transport?   
  
Severus started to call out. Then he saw the loving look Dobby gave his former master's son. Severus relaxed. Malfoy could be in no better hands than those of a house elf who still subconsciously saw him as Family.  
  
"Dinner. Right." Weasley said, grimacing. "I'm not sure I'll be able to keep anything down after that last."  
  
Severus' own stomach roiled as he recalled all he had seen that day. "I don't think I'll be eating meat for about a week." He bared his teeth in grim mirth. "However, be sure to eat anything you can stomach. You will recover better with a good meal and plenty of rest."  
  
Weasley nodded.   
  
Severus pushed away from the wall. "I'll tell you about my mother some time, if you're interested." Severus was surprised with himself.  
  
"Your mother?" Weasley asked, clearly confused.  
  
"Didn't Harry tell you?" Severus stopped and looked at his son's friend.  
  
"Tell me what?"   
  
Severus shook his head. "Mother was Maura Thornton." The boy gasped. "I thought he would have told you, as much as you know about her work."  
  
"No, he didn't tell me. I think I'm too tired to be upset about it." Weasley looked away. "We haven't spent as much time together recently. At least, not outside class. He is always rushing off to see you these days."  
  
"I'm sorry." Severus said. "I don't think I had realized this touched more than the two of us. I should have included you and Miss Granger more."  
  
"It's not your fault. Besides," Weasley grinned. "It has given me time alone with Hermione, which would be almost pleasant if I could get her to stop studying."  
  
"The two of you have worked that out then? No," Severus continued quickly, holding up his hand. "I don't want to know the details. The offer to discuss mother still stands."  
  
Weasley, whose shoulders had tensed, relaxed. "I'd like that."  
  
They had reached the large doors of the great hall.   
  
"Thank you for your help, Mr. Weasley." Severus said.  
  
"Thank you for giving me something constructive to do." Weasley countered.  
  
Weasley took a seat at the Gryffindor table and Severus continued up to the staff table.   
  
Then Severus was finally sitting. His posture was carefully straight, no matter how much he wanted to put his head down.   
  
As the students trickled in he suddenly had the sort of thought that makes a person want to thump themselves in the head. Rose Brier Cottage had none of the safeguards Hogwarts boasted. Rose would not be safe there if Voldemort sought to harm her.  
  
"Humby." He said quietly.  
  
The old elf appeared, looking as tired as Severus felt.   
  
"Master?" Humby bowed.   
  
"Bring me parchment, ink and quill. Oh, and one of the preconfigured Alde Craig portkeys. When I have written the message, please deliver it personally to Rose. Then get some rest."  
  
"As Master wills." Humby replied before disappearing.  
  
Severus composed the message in his head while he waited.  
  
Rose,  
  
I do not believe you will be safe staying at the cottage. Hogsmeade was attacked while we were with you. I know you don't like living with Father, but the Castle has almost as much security as Hogwarts. I urge you to accept my invitation to reside there for as long as is necessary. I have sent you an Alde Craig portkey. Take your time, but don't linger. When you are packed and ready hold the portkey and say Alde Craig as if you were Flooing. I will be in touch.  
  
Severus  
  
When he had written that, he wrote another, smaller note for Plovy, the house elf at Alde Craig, ordering his aunt's comforts to be attended to.  
  
*****  
  
Dinner was an odd affair that night. The absence of their still injured classmates left an odd hole in the Great Hall.   
  
When the school was assembled, Dumbledore rose to speak.  
  
"It will no doubt relive you all to know that all of our students are accounted for. No one has been lost. No one has died. All of those in the Hospital Wing are expected to make a full recovery."  
  
The Hall buzzed with a relived murmur. Dumbledore raised a hand for silence.  
  
"All Hogsmeade trips are canceled until further notice." No one spoke, but there were many nods of agreement. "We have no reason to believe that the school is in danger of attack at this time. We are increasing security. I assure you that we are using every precaution to ensure your safety. Visitors should be accompanied at all times. This attack has surprised us, but it has not caught us unprepared. Your heads of house will inform you shortly of any changes in policy or rules. For now, eat your meal without fear for yourselves or your friends."  
  
Dumbledore sat wearily. The food appeared a moment later.  
  
Dinner that night resembled what a bachelor might pull out of his mother's larder on a visit. There was little in the way of cooked foods. There were a great many things resembling leftovers.   
  
Quickly word got around. No, the kitchens weren't on strike. The meal had simply been interrupted completely while the elves helped attend to the injured.   
  
A few minutes after the food arrived, Hermione entered the hall and took the empty place next to Ron.  
  
"You all right, 'Mione?" Ron asked past a mouthful of food.  
  
"Mostly." She smiled and touched her bandage. "I got some blood-clotting cream on it, but otherwise it will have to heal on its own. There were many injuries worse than mine."  
  
"Too right." Ron shuddered. "Let's not talk about that."  
  
"Right. Harry, how was meeting Aunt Rose?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Great, really. She seems like a lot of fun." Harry smiled, but it faded slowly. "She asked me to stay with her over the holidays, but I don't suppose they'll let me with all this going on."  
  
"Harry, why didn't you tell me Professor Snape's mother was Maura Thornton?" Ron asked.  
  
Harry had the grace to look guilty. "I, well, I meant to, but I kept forgetting to bring it up."   
  
Ron shrugged. "Whatever." He waved his hand to cut off further apologies. "You know, Professor Snape really isn't so bad."  
  
"Since when did you use that honorific in private conversation?" Hermione asked, almost amused.  
  
"Since I actually had a civil conversation with the man." Ron replied, reaching for the roasted potatoes. "He's different than I thought, Harry. I didn't quite believe you before."  
  
Harry nodded. "He masks himself well. Once you really start talking to him you start to understand him. Then he does something beastly in class and you want to change your mind back again."  
  
Ron grinned, his mouth full. "I can see that."   
  
"Honestly, Ron, chew and swallow." Hermione said, handing him a napkin. "And use this. There's sauce on your chin."  
  
"Yes, Mum." Ron said, rolling his eyes.  
  
"Every once in a while he says something that makes me believe he really loves teaching." Harry continued.   
  
"Of course he must." Hermione said. "Why would he do it otherwise?"  
  
"Um, that whole Death Eater thing for one." Ron said in a hushed voice, glancing furtively around to see that no one was listening in.  
  
Hermione shook her head. "Maybe at first." She conceded. "Now he is an internationally known Potions Master. He could have a job in research almost anywhere if he wanted it. Or He could make complex potions all day long and sell them to a shop or to the Ministry. He stays because he wants to stay." She insisted.  
  
"If you say so." Ron said, still not quite believing.  
  
"Um, guys." Harry said hesitantly. "I'm really sorry about blowing up at you last night."  
  
"No worries, mate." Ron said quickly. "You were right." He grinned. "Hermione and I worked it out last night after you went to bed."  
  
Harry looked past Ron to Hermione.  
  
"That's right. If you hadn't pushed us, it would have taken months more." She slipped her arm around Ron's waist. "He was really brave this afternoon; he broke his arm shielding me from some falling rubble."  
  
"Although I did accidentally shove you onto a jagged piece of glass." Ron shuddered. "I didn't even feel my arm anymore when I saw all that blood."   
  
"I'll be fine now." Hermione assured him. "A bit of a scar, perhaps, but that can't be helped."  
  
"Who is still on the injured list?" Harry asked, peering down the table looking for faces he knew.  
  
"Quite a few of the sixth and seventh years." Hermione said.  
  
Ron listed the names of the students Severus had sent upstairs, swallowing the bitterness the memories brought to him.  
  
"Where is Ginny?" Harry asked, still looking around.  
  
Ron went very white. "Ginny?" He half rose to look for her.  
  
"Sit." Hermione ordered. "I thought you knew." She grimaced. "Madame Pomphrey stabilized her almost first. She was one of the worst curse victims. She is up in the Hospital Wing. Madame Pomphrey said she would recover, but it will be slow."  
  
Harry blew out his breath slowly.   
  
Ron sagged against Hermione. "I don't suppose they will let us visit soon?"  
  
"Not likely." Harry said. "The whole school would want to visit someone."  
  
They concentrated glumly on their dinners after that.  
  
*****  
  
A/N – Poor Ginny. She was hurt dreadfully. Ron will be beside himself until she recovers. She doesn't feel a thing at the moment. Don't worry, I'm not about to kill off one of my favorite characters. Grin.  
  
BTW, in case you haven't noticed, Gusha is the insane voice in my head. Persistent and evil. *nods* I am the normal and sane one. All the mistakes are Gusha's fault. 


	29. Sev is tired, so tired

Disclaimer: Aw, do I have to? Not mine.  
  
A/N – Here we go again. Yet another chapter. Isn't it nice that all my daemons have been cooperating recently? Grammar check even claims that I have no passive sentences. How completely amazing.   
  
sadilou tells me that I sound American. Is that such a bad thing? I am American. I sound silly writing in a British accent. *sadilou says that of course you sounds american – but Harry shouldn't if at all possible. so there.*  
  
*****  
  
Severus was so tired after dinner that he almost told Harry they would talk in the morning. After he heard what his son had to say, he was glad that he had listened.  
  
Severus gazed intently at a point on the wall beyond Harry's shoulder. The boy had fallen silent several minutes past. Finally, Severus rubbed the bridge of his nose with the first knuckle of his fist and focused on his son's face again.  
  
"Yes, Harry, this is important. Very important. I will go speak with Dumbledore right away." He gestured to the three talismans that his son slept under. "Use those tonight, Harry. I don't like the thought of you being vulnerable to Voldemort. The thing about people in visions is that if you can see them, they often can see you."  
  
"But, Sev, if I could…" Harry began.  
  
"No, Harry. You cannot expose yourself to possible discovery." Severus' face was hard, his voice firm. "If Dumbledore agrees, we may try to induce the visions under controlled circumstances. Promise me you will wait until we set up safeguards."  
  
Harry swallowed heavily. "Yes, I promise."  
  
Severus sighed in relief. "I don't know if these visions are part of our family legacy, or a symptom of your connection to Voldemort. Perhaps Rose will know."  
  
"Is Rose all right?" Harry asked, thinking of her for the first time since they had left her cottage.  
  
"She owled me just as dinner was ending. I wrote to her earlier. She made it to Alde Craig safely." He smiled savagely. "She is rather upset to be living with my father again, but the castle is large. Hopefully they won't kill one another."  
  
Harry smiled. "I have a feeling Rose is a match for just about anyone."  
  
"That she is." Severus said softly. "That she is."  
  
"I want to thank you for taking my dreams seriously, Sev. I don't think I would if they hadn't proven true before now."  
  
"Are all your True dreams about Voldemort?" Severus asked.  
  
"I think so. At least all the scary ones."  
  
"Naturally." Severus agreed wryly.  
  
"Oh, one more thing, Sev, and then I'll stop thanking you every other sentence. I'm really glad for what you did with Ron." Harry said.  
  
"He kept a cool head." Severus said. "Besides, any child of Molly Weasley is bound to be a gentler healer than me."  
  
Harry laughed. He stood and gathered up his dream tokens. "Thanks, Sev. I'll just go use these." He yawned.  
  
"Harry?" Severus called as his son neared the door.  
  
"Yes?" Harry turned back to face him.  
  
"Is 'Sev' any closer to 'Dad?'?" He asked quietly.  
  
Harry considered this for a few moments.  
  
"Yes." He finally said. "I believe it is."  
  
"Good night, Harry."  
  
"Good night, Sev."  
  
*****  
  
Sev returned from his conference with Dumbledore an hour later. He was not to leave the castle under any circumstances. Sev rubbed the back of his neck feeling his own exhaustion.  
  
Not that he expected anything else. Dumbledore was going to take care of finding the warehouse and discovering if anyone was still anywhere nearby. There were probably trusted aurors checking it out right now.  
  
He was so tired, that he didn't notice the Granger girl until he almost tripped over her. She was sitting on the landing in front of his door.   
  
"I presume that you wish to speak with me?" He said, blinking down at her.  
  
"Well, yes, that is…" She stuttered.  
  
Sev sighed. "Right. Come in, but don't think you're going to stay long. It's almost curfew." Sev worked the spell that opened the door to his chambers.  
  
"I know." She said softly. "Maybe I should come back another time."  
  
"No." Sev said, holding the door open and ushering her inside. "Now is fine."  
  
They sat facing each other. "Well, Miss Granger, what is it?"  
  
"I wanted to ask you something. You see, in September, after Harry spoke with you for the first time, he told me in a rather off hand way to ask you about it."  
  
The silly girl seemed to be babbling. "Ask me about what?" He asked mildly.   
  
"House elves, sir." She said, blinking owlishly.  
  
"Ask me about house elves?" Sev said incredulously.  
  
"Yes, sir. Harry said you might have some insights I would find interesting." She explained.  
  
"Oh, I see." Sev slumped back in his chair and began drumming his fingers on his knee. "You rather upset them last year, you know. Humby was agitated for weeks."  
  
"Seeing them at work today made me wonder." She played with a few threads coming off her bandage. "I saw Dobby hovering over Draco Malfoy for ages. I thought the Malfoys were terrible to him. I thought he wanted to be free."   
  
"I wondered if anyone else noticed that." Sev shook his head. "Where to begin. Not with Malfoy and Dobby, I am not at all sure of the details where they are concerned." Sev pulled at his ear.  
  
"I come from a very old Wizarding family. We have a castle, Alde Craig, on the Alde River, near the village that bears our name. Many long years ago we hid it very carefully. The locals believe it to be a natural stone outcropping. A formation that has been there as long as they or their grandparents remember. We have been served by a family of house elves since the castle was built many hundreds of years ago."  
  
He paused and looked at the girl for a moment. "When I was born, Humby was assigned to care for me. It is a fairly common practice in families served by house elves. After all, you want to have someone you can trust to care for your heir. Who could you possibly trust more than your elf?"   
  
Sev laughed dryly. "Their loyalty is magically enforced. Humby raised me. When I was old enough, I had tutors, but Humby was my primary caregiver, my friend. Given who my parents were that was most likely a good thing."  
  
"I thought your mother…" Miss Granger stopped herself, wincing. "Sorry."  
  
"My mother was everything sweet and kind." Sev acknowledged. "The problem was she was in love with her art and in love with my father, possibly in that order. I don't know if you are familiar with artists, but they get involved in their work. Besides, I was very young when she died."  
  
Sev paused again, reflecting. "Humby would play with me when I was good, but if I wasn't…" He bit his lip. "If he didn't approve, he would become very formal. He would DO things for me. I generally elected to have my playmate rather than my servant."  
  
"I still don't understand why…" Miss Granger's voice trailed off.  
  
"Why they don't want pensions and holidays?" Sev supplied. She nodded.  
  
Sev sighed. "Miss Granger, how would you feel if someone told you never to use magic again? Never to read again unless you are paid to do so?"  
  
"Um…" She looked mildly confused.  
  
"A house elf has very powerful magic that happens to be tied to domestic chores. They like to use their magic. It makes them happy. Telling them not to work is like telling a child not to play." He shook his head. "I won't claim that they are never abused or taken advantage of. However, on the whole, they are happy as long as they can be working."  
  
"I see." She said quietly. "Thank you. This has been very helpful."  
  
"If I wasn't so tired, I might try to tell you one of the stories Humby used to tell me. He had a great deal of lore passed down from his ancestors. House elves have their own religion, you know, a complicated mythology."  
  
"Are there any books you could recommend?" Miss Granger asked.  
  
"That would be your question, wouldn't it?" Sev said wryly. "No, Miss Granger, it is almost entirely an oral tradition. Tomorrow I will see if Humby or one of the other elves would be willing to tell you a few stories. For now, I will bid you good night."  
  
They both stood and Sev showed her to the door.  
  
"Thank you, Professor Snape." She said.  
  
"Good night, Miss Granger." He said, closing the door firmly behind her.  
  
Sev sagged against the secured portal.  
  
Sleep. It was time to sleep.   
  
He even made it all the way to his bed.  
  
*****  
  
A/N – He was tired. He was very tired. Hey! Stop that Gusha. It isn't polite to stare into other people's bedrooms!  
  
No, you may not help him take his shoes off. Get away from that door.  
  
*Gusha sulks in the corner.*  
  
Honestly. 


	30. The Wee Hours of the Morning

Disclaimer: Previous still applies.  
  
A/N – This chapter has absolutely no action in it. Isn't that fun?  
  
Wow, thirty whole chapters. Amazing. Gusha is impressed. Funny how fast the number climbs if you post one a day for several days. *Grin*  
  
*****  
  
Harry snapped awake. He sat up with the intense feeling that he was late for something important. A moment of panic was swiftly replaced with the realization that it was Sunday. He hadn't even made plans to go flying with his father.  
  
Harry fumbled for his glasses and peered out of his bed curtains.   
  
He sighed and flopped back onto his pillow. There was no sunlight streaming through the windows. The clock on the wall read 'You should be asleep.'  
  
He could almost make out the lines of his dream catchers. What if he had just missed another important True Dream? Harry reached for his watch, sighing heavily. 3:15 AM.  
  
He shook his head from side to side on his pillow. Why do you sleep so well when you should get up, and wake up early when you should sleep in? It was one of those age old questions with cosmic importance.  
  
Harry closed his eyes, controlled his breathing and tried to go back to sleep.   
  
It didn't work. By 3:17AM he tossed the covers aside. At 3:18 he was mixing himself a calming tea by candlelight. The kettle appeared, steaming hot, when he lit his candle.  
  
Zinnia stuck her head out of the portal he had magicked into her terrarium when he realized that he trusted her not to lose herself.  
  
"Flying?" She asked, and then she answered her own question. "Not."  
  
"No, I'm not going out." Harry agreed.  
  
"Sleep." Zinnia hissed. "Calm. No problems."  
  
"Go back to sleep, dear." He told her. "I don't think I'll be able to."  
  
"Sleep. Bed. Warm." She urged again. When he didn't go, she hissed in annoyance, "Humans" and crawled back into her heated corner.  
  
Harry grinned at her retreating form. What a joy she was.   
  
Harry crushed his herbs and poured hot water over them. Harry shivered while he waited for his tea to steep. He looked around for his jumper it was draped over a chair across the room. He found the slipper he had kicked off with his toes and put his foot back in it.   
  
As he reached for his jumper he noticed that Ron's hangings were wide open. His bed had the sloppy, half made look that meant Ron had slept in it. Despite the fact that their beds were made magically by a house elf each morning, Ron still half heartedly preformed the chore his mother had always insisted on.  
  
Harry stared at the empty bed for a moment, and then remembered. Ginny. Ron must have gone to visit Ginny.   
  
Harry shrugged into his bulky jumper and pulled his hair out of the neckband.  
  
He thought about following. He changed his mind after only a few moments. Madam Pomphrey had enough to worry about without him too. She most likely had several unofficial visitors, in spite of the time of day. Ron was not the only one with a sibling still injured.  
  
Harry sat at his desk again and poured out his tea. He leaned forward to blow the steam away. Something stopped him short. His hair was caught on something.  
  
He traced the braid with his fingers and found that he was sitting on it. Harry lifted the ends of his hair and blinked at it owlishly. His hair was long enough to sit on?  
  
His other hand touched his head. Judging by the loss of tension in his braid, it must have grown another inch in the night. Harry shook his head. Perhaps this was too far. He dropped the braid and turned back to his tea.   
  
He considered all the things that should get done today. The Potions reading that he fell asleep over the day before. Some Charms work that was actually due in a week, but he could only get Hermione to help with if he asked early enough.   
  
Then there was the trunk.  
  
He twisted to look at it, guiltily. He turned back to his cup. He had been putting off going through Della's things. Perhaps that was what he should do today.  
  
He finished his tea and turned the cup.  
  
'Peace in performing unpleasant tasks.'  
  
Harry looked at the trunk again. Definitely. He sighed heavily.  
  
He rose and crossed to the two trunks sitting at the foot of his bed. The bottom one was his school trunk. The top one once belonged to Asphodel Maddis.  
  
Harry moved the lamp stand close to the foot of his bed and lit the lamps.  
  
There was a key spell-o-taped to the arched lid of the trunk. Harry pulled it loose and looked at it. The words 'Once, Twice and Again' were etched into the metal.   
  
Harry put the key in the lock and turned it. The mechanism resisted for a second, but then unlocked. Harry lifted the lid.  
  
He breathed in the smell of old clothes, faded roses and cedar wood. Harry touched the blue cloth that covered the contents. Robes, he realized. Della's clothes.  
  
He lifted out the first garment. He let it unfold and looked at it. It was a simple day robe with a wide trim around the collar. He folded it reverently and placed it on the foot of his bed.   
  
Harry continued to pull out garments until Della Maddis' clothes were all piled precariously on his bed. He stared at the trunk in disbelief. It was empty. At least it looked empty. He examined the inside.  
  
He had almost given up when he noticed the printed words on the inside of the trunk. They were opposite to the hinges, so that most people would overlook them.  
  
"This is compartment one. To reach the other compartments of your Once, Twice and Again trunk, close the lid and turn the key again. To lock your trunk, turn the key in the opposite direction."  
  
Harry grinned. A magic trunk. He placed the piles of clothing back inside and closed the lid. He turned the key and opened the lid again.  
  
He sighed. This was what he was looking for. The top item was a narrow box ten inches long. He opened it: Della's wand. He lifted it and tried a simple spell. Lumos. The wand glowed reassuringly. Nox.  
  
Harry put the wand back into its box and put it on the bed. Next there were several cloth wrapped bundles tied with string. He slowly unveiled a crystal figurine of a majestic looking dragon; an odd little clock that seemed to have stopped; a deck of tarot cards and a serviceable set of writing implements.  
  
Beneath those was a rag doll with several changes of clothes and a toy manticore with a pink bow around it's stinging tail. Harry laughed softly.  
  
The bottom of the trunk was lined with four small wooden boxes. One held a large assortment of jewelry. Harry closed it without trying to detangle the pieces from one another.   
  
The next box appeared to be a sewing kit. It looked like it was usually neat, but several things had been placed inside quickly: the tape measure, a pin cushion, several small buttons and a half sewn baby boot. Harry touched the white material tenderly. There were small rusted spots where the needle and pins had been for fifteen years.  
  
The third wooden box smelled of stale herbs. Harry opened it. It contained about a dozen scented candles. Harry cocked his head. Candles?  
  
The last item in the trunk was the largest of the boxes. In it was a rather wide assortment of things. Ticket stubs and programs of plays, ribbons, mementos from various places, used train tickets. There were a few dried flowers, carefully preserved between sheets of parchment.  
  
A tiny box held Muggle coins from a dozen nations. Della's first Hogwarts letter was there, some sheet music, drawings from when she was a child. At the bottom of the mass of things was a single still photograph. Severus smiled tenderly out of the unmoving picture.   
  
Harry held it up to the light. This young man looked like he was in love. Harry placed the picture back in the box and slowly replaced the rest of the contents on top of it.  
  
He piled most of the things back in and closed the box. He placed the other boxes and the toys back in. He closed the lid of the trunk. Harry carried the other things to his desk and laid them out respectfully.   
  
He turned the key a third time in the hope that the trunk would reveal something else. He had hoped that Della might have left a journal or a packet of letters.  
  
He opened the lid again to reveal books, lots of books.  
  
There was a little lever to one side. A caption read: forward, stop, back. Harry pushed the lever to back and the books zoomed by. Above the first shelf of books was the instruction plaque, like the one he had seen in the first compartment.  
  
"The Once, Twice and Again Limitless Bookshelf.  
  
Your library, all in one convenient space."  
  
Harry stared at the inscription. He shook his head. He scrolled all the way forward. The last shelf had a few inches of space left.  
  
Below that shelf was another inscription.   
  
"Press button for additional shelf." Harry pressed the small black button. An empty shelf appeared. He grinned. It would take ages to go through all of Della's books. He ran a finger over the spines, reading the titles.  
  
Harry picked up a curious volume that had no title. It's pages fanned out oddly. He turned to the front; the first page was blank. The second had an envelope glued to it. Harry drew the sheet of parchment out.  
  
"Dearest Della,   
  
Don't let old Binns get you down. I still don't know why you want to go for a N.E.W.T in History of Magic. Deathly dull.  
  
I'm really starting to understand the properties of the new moth wings we've been importing from New Zealand. The boss even said I was ahead of the game.  
  
That reminds me, I beat Malfoy at chess the other day. He dropped by my flat rather late and bullied me into going to his club with him. Hard to say no when he gets like that.  
  
The weather has been exceptionally good for this time of year.   
  
I love you. I miss you. I feel like a piece of me is missing. My conscious, or my soul, or you…  
  
Don't study too hard.   
  
Love,  
  
The letter was signed with the scribble that Severus meant to be his signature.  
  
Harry folded the letter and placed it back in it's envelope. On the facing page Della had copied out her reply.  
  
Harry read through their correspondence from Della's seventh year. They teased each other, and related the mundane details of life. They both sounded very much in love.  
  
Della had pasted her graduation announcement and their wedding invitation into the book. There were a few letters from after they were married.   
  
Then, a new string of letters from Severus appeared in the book. Letters that begged and cajoled, letters that threatened, letters that told of his missions for Dumbledore, letters where he kept repeating 'I don't know why I'm writing this, I doubt you will read it anyway.'  
  
In between each letter was an answer from Della. At the top of each page she wrote: This is a letter that I did not send.  
  
Harry swallowed hard when he came to the last page. A tear fell, unheeded down his cheek. He closed the book and placed it back on the shelf.  
  
He closed the trunk and turned the key again. He opened it to reveal Della's clothes once again. He locked the trunk   
  
He extinguished the candles and lamps. Then he lay on his bed. The covers were cold, but he pulled them up to his chin anyway.   
  
Light was streaming through the windows now. Harry set his glasses on the bedside table and drew his curtains shut. He closed his eyes and cried for his parents until he fell back to sleep.  
  
*****  
  
A/N – NO, you may not watch Harry sleep either! Bad Gusha.  
  
We found it rather difficult to address the contents of Della's trunk. I finally wandered around the house looking at things and such. I also mentally went through boxes of stuff that I have kept around. I have half a dozen daffodils that dried in their 3-d shape in my hope chest.  
  
What do you think about the Limitless Bookshelf? I love it, lol. I need one (sadilou agrees and wants one of her own.) Della is a Ravenclaw, if you remember. I thought she would have at least as many books as I do… 


	31. Sunday Morning, er, Afternoon?

Disclaimer: Don't sue; I don't intend any sort of copyright infringement. JKR claims to be flattered by fanfiction.  
  
A/N – Here we go again. I believe this will be a double post. Yes. I keep the chapters this length on average. I have reasons, I like medium length chapters.  
  
This has not been beta read because sadilou is out of town. She gets back tomorrow, but who really wants me to wait?   
  
I think this segment is a bit choppy, but I don't think I'll be changing it anytime soon.  
  
*****  
  
Severus woke at midmorning to sunlight peeking between the drapes on his bedroom window. One bright little beam was shining right in his eyes.   
  
He had been aware of the sunbeam for half an hour before that, but only in that sleepy dreaming way of early morning.  
  
He sighed, squeezed his eyes further shut and moved his head, but that brought him to full consciousness. He rolled over and hid his face in his pillow.   
  
Time to get up, he told himself. He pushed himself up onto his arms and gasped. He rolled onto his back and touched the throbbing pain enveloping his shoulder.  
  
What? When? How? He suddenly recalled the harrowing Floo ride the day before.   
  
Severus sat up carefully. He drew his gray nightshirt over his head and craned his neck to see the damage. It had already blossomed into a nasty looking bruise.   
  
He mulled over the nightshirt that he did not recall putting on the night before. His sleep fogged brain came up with a name. Humby.   
  
Humby was also responsible for the covers that had been tucked up to his chin most of the night. For as long as Severus could recall, Humby had always changed him and tucked him in whenever he was too exhausted or too lazy to do those things for himself.  
  
He groaned. Humby should have been resting, not performing extra chores to keep him comfortable.   
  
Especially after yesterday.  
  
Severus groaned again as he remembered healing many of the injured students. He threw his nightshirt in the general direction of his laundry hamper and fell back against his pillows. He would have some new nightmares after all that had happened yesterday.   
  
Nightmares. He should see about getting himself one of those talismans like Harry had. Not from Black. He scowled at the thought.   
  
Could he convince Molly Weasley to make him one without…? He sighed. There was no way in the world that he was going to ask her – or Miss Granger, either. He would have to do some research in some of his – nonexistent – spare time.  
  
He should ask about Harry's dream too. Dumbledore should have some information by now. From the way Harry described the trapped man, it was either Crabbe or Goyle. Would they be able to use either of those thickheaded louts to thwart Voldemort?  
  
Severus threw back his covers. Something about his arm stopped him again. The Mark! It was almost completely faded. It hadn't looked so faint in more than a year.   
  
Harry.  
  
If there was any chance of ridding himself of the Mark forever, his son was the key. He stood, favoring his shoulder only slightly and began to get ready to face the day.  
  
*****  
  
A/N – Gusha is sticking her tongue out at me.  
  
*****  
  
Severus swept into the staff room. As he had hoped, Minerva was there. She sat in her customary chair, sipping tea and reading her copy of Transfiguration Weekly.  
  
Somewhat to his surprise, she was not alone. Albus Dumbledore sat in the chair beside her, reading what looked like an ancient dime store novel. Beside him a pair of knitting needles were working away furiously at what appeared to be a sock.  
  
Good. He needed to talk to them both.  
  
He moved a straight backed chair from its place by the wall and sat facing them.  
  
He waited for them to look up.  
  
At almost the same moment, his two coworkers lowered their reading material and looked up at him.   
  
Severus hid his amusement through long years of practice.   
  
"Ah, Severus." Albus said, smiling slightly. "Did you sleep well?"  
  
Severus nodded curtly. "Sheer exhaustion will do that to you."  
  
"I didn't think to ask last night." Minerva said, laying her magazine in her lap. "Are you and Harry all right?"  
  
"No lasting damage." Severus said, rolling his shoulder as if to remind himself that it still hurt. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you, both of you, about Harry." Severus unbuttoned the cuff of his shirt and displayed his forearm for both of them.  
  
"It faded." Minerva's eyes widened. "When and how?"  
  
"Harry touched it and willed it to stop hurting." Severus covered his arm once again. "If he can do that, don't you think he might be able to remove it altogether?"  
  
Severus looked at Minerva. Minerva looked at Albus. Albus glanced at each of them and then into the knitting basket by his feet.  
  
"Yes." Dumbledore said finally. "It must be tried, at least."  
  
Minerva nodded and let out the breath she had been holding. "Yes, it must be tried. I only hope that the results are no worse than when we tried before."  
  
None of them made eye contact for a moment. No one had been hurt the last time, but magical backlash had been known to kill.   
  
"It ought to work." Albus said softly. "If Harry can manage the spell. Why didn't I think of this before?"  
  
"He has done a great many difficult things." Minerva said quietly. "More than we ever could have expected or asked."  
  
Severus swallowed hard and nodded.   
  
Minerva closed her magazine and started to rise. "We can use my workroom again."  
  
"A few things before you go." Albus said. Minerva settled back into her chair. "Severus, I thought you would want to know that Mr. Goyle was recovered, alive, from the rubble. We sent his son to go see him. He is in the secure ward at St. Mungo's. He has not woken yet, but he is expected to recover. I thought Harry would want to know." Albus explained.  
  
"Of course." Severus nodded. He glanced at Minerva and they stood.  
  
"Just one more thing, Severus." Albus said. "Our mutual friend contacted me early this morning. He was in Hogsmeade last night. He wants to meet with you."  
  
Severus stiffened and shot a glance at Minerva. He relaxed. She knew this already, or Albus never would have brought it up.   
  
"I trust he is spending the day in his usual room?" He said.  
  
Albus nodded.  
  
Severus clenched his teeth and nodded back. "I will see him this evening."  
  
*****  
  
Ron had returned before Harry woke again. He had been allowed to see Ginny for about ten minutes. Madame Pomphrey was insisting on only family visits while she still had more than twenty patients to care for.  
  
Harry was playing chess with Ron when Humby appeared beside them. The old elf bowed deeply.  
  
"How are you this morning, Humby?" Harry asked, taking one of Ron's pawns before turning completely to Humby.  
  
"Humby is fine, sir. He is charged to give this to the Young Master, sir." Humby offered Harry a sheet of parchment, folded in half once.   
  
Harry took it. It read:  
  
Harry,  
  
Come to the Transfiguration corridor as soon as possible.   
  
Severus (Still the same scrawl)  
  
Harry read the note several times before crumbling it and putting it in his pocket. "Looks like I'll have to go." He started putting the chess pieces back in their starting poses.  
  
"Is there anything else that Humby can do for the Young Master?" Humby asked with another flourishing bow.  
  
"Do you play chess, Humby?" Harry asked, smiling disturbingly.  
  
The old elf's eyes widened. "Humby has not played chess in many years, sir. But Humby was once very good, sir." He leaned forward and whispered. "Humby has even beaten Master Severus."  
  
"Good, than you can beat Ron while I go see what Sev wants. Sit here and take my place." Harry stood. "Ron needs some distracting."  
  
"What's up, mate?" Ron asked, placing his own pieces back in their places.   
  
"Don't know." Harry replied. "Sev is rather cryptic in his note."  
  
Harry started for the door, but then hurried to his dorm room instead. He turned the key in Della's trunk three times and opened the lid. He scrolled the bookshelf to Della's letter diary and slipped the book into his pocket.   
  
*****  
  
A/N – I don't think I write Dumbledore terribly well. Now on to the next chapter. 


	32. On Removing Allegiance Oath Marks

Disclaimer: Not mine.  
  
A/N – Yes. I have been planning this rather vaguely from the beginning. It just sort of flowed onto the screen. This could be good or bad. I'll let you decide.  
  
Once again, I am too impatient to wait for my beta. *Grin*  
  
*****  
  
Severus was waiting for Harry in the Transfiguration corridor. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of his robes and he was scuffing the toe of his shoe on the floor.  
  
"Are you all right after yesterday, Harry?" Sev asked as he pushed off from the wall.  
  
"Yeah," Harry replied, "Not a bruise or a scratch." He shook his head. "I feel a bad, though. I mean, all of those people were hurt because Voldemort was looking for me…"  
  
"Don't, Harry." Sev said softly. "It is not your fault that a madman has been trying to kill you since you were born."  
  
Harry nodded. "What about you? How is the shoulder?"  
  
"It's been better." Sev admitted wryly. "Come on, Professor MacGonagall is waiting for us." He led Harry through a classroom.  
  
"What's going on?" Harry asked.  
  
"Remember at Rosebriar, you made the Mark subside?" Sev said, touching his arm.  
  
"Yeah. You started on about me being the key or something." Harry said.  
  
"Right. I think you may be able to remove it. Minerva went ahead to set up." Sev opened the side door. "In here."  
  
They entered a well lit workroom. Professor MacGonagall was there, making marks on the floor with a piece of chalk.  
  
"What in Merlin's name are you doing, Minerva? We didn't use all that before, did we?" Sev looked around at the runes and symbols drawn on the floor.   
  
"No, we didn't." Professor MacGonagall said sharply. "Maybe we should have. The allegiance spell is very old magic. I thought perhaps doing some protective spells in the old way might help."  
  
Sev walked the perimeter of the spells drawn out on the floor. As he read them, his face grew more and more incredulous.   
  
"Do these even work?" He finally said.   
  
Professor MacGonagall scowled at him and placed her fists on her hips. "They most certainly do." She snapped. "The old ways worked for thousands of years before modern people came along and sped everything up. Now we just say a word and wave a stick."  
  
Sev raised his eyebrows, but did not comment.  
  
Professor MacGonagall seemed to see Harry for the first time. "Oh, Harry, good." She stepped over a complex shape on the floor and picked up a book. "Here, you and Severus can go over the process while I finish. The relevant pages begin at the place that ribbon is marking."  
  
Harry opened the book while Professor MacGonagall began making marks on the walls.  
  
'On Removing Allegiance Oath Marks  
  
Should the Liege Lord chose to sever his ties with his servants, he should proceed in like manner…'  
  
The language was archaic; it appeared to have been translated at least once. The translator had provided footnotes where he thought that explanation of word choice was necessary.  
  
Harry read it through twice before looking up at Sev. "It seems rather straightforward… in the most convoluted way possible." He grimaced.   
  
Sev nodded. "I thought so too. We tried it once, but as Minerva is not the 'Liege Lord' it did not work."  
  
"Naturally." Harry said, looking over part of the spell again. Then he flipped to the proceeding spell. "Is this how it happened when you got the Mark?"  
  
Sev nodded. "Just about, yeah."  
  
"Then it should work, shouldn't it?" Harry said.  
  
"It will work." Professor MacGonagall said firmly. She stood and dusted off her hands. "There. That should do it. Severus, you stand here. And Harry, right inside this pentagon. Now wait while I invoke the spells."  
  
Both of them watched as Professor MacGonagall read the spells aloud. As she said each symbol it began to glow. The magical energies formed into visible shields around them. She invoked the ring of symbols on the wall and then took a deep breath.  
  
"Go ahead, Harry. I'm done out here." She said.  
  
Harry held the book open and followed the instructions carefully. As he said the words and made the gestures, he felt magical energy build up around him.  
  
Finally he said. "Severus, I release you from the bonds that hold you tied." He touched his father's arm and felt the energy around him dissipate into the place where their skin met.  
  
Nothing happened. The Mark stayed. The magical force Harry had felt had not done anything.  
  
Harry looked down at the book. That was the last thing in the spell. He withdrew his hand.  
  
Sev and Harry both turned to look at Professor MacGonagall.   
  
"Well, did it work?" She asked impatiently.  
  
"No." Sev said.  
  
"Should I try again?" Harry asked. "Could there be something wrong with the translation?"  
  
All of them gazed at the book for several long moments.  
  
"Do it again, Harry." Sev said quietly.  
  
Harry preformed the ritual again, trying to pull every degree of detail from the text. He felt the energy build again, and dissipate when he touched Sev.   
  
Harry looked at the Mark that stubbornly remained on his father's arm. He withdrew his hand again and they both turned to Professor MacGonagall.   
  
"Take down the circles, Minerva." Sev said. "It didn't work."  
  
She bit her lip, but set to work banishing the magic she had conjured.  
  
"It wasn't a total loss." Professor MacGonagall said when they were all seated at desks in the adjoining classroom. "At least neither of you needs the hospital."  
  
Harry smiled weakly.   
  
"What did we learn?" Sev asked. "Apparently Harry is not the Liege Lord either. However, neither of us passed out, so the spell did not completely fail either. I felt something each time. Harry?"  
  
"Yes, the energy built up and then left again. It should have worked." Harry shook his head sadly. "What did I do wrong?"  
  
"I don't think you did anything wrong, Harry." Professor MacGonagall said wearily. "I've studied that book. You did it exactly as the book said. The book must not have it right."  
  
"No." Harry said slowly. "The book has it right for what it thinks we need. I felt it, it should have worked. Except that…" He paused and a smile crept over his face. "I have it. Let's do it one more time."  
  
The adults exchanged a worried glance.   
  
"Shall we go back in there, or do it here?" Harry said when no one seemed inclined to move.  
  
"I can't put the protection back up so soon." Professor MacGonagall said slowly. "Once was quite tiring enough."  
  
"Do we really need it?" Sev asked. "Nothing happened the last two times."  
  
"If he is going to be changing things…" Professor MacGonagall began.  
  
"Yes, I am." Harry agreed.  
  
"Well, could I invoke your silly drawings?" Sev asked impatiently.  
  
"I think it might be enough if I just put up the one in the center." Professor MacGonagall said. "Come on. Just once more."  
  
They trooped back into the workroom, careful not to disturb the chalk markings.  
  
Professor MacGonagall was done much sooner this time. "Go ahead, Harry."   
  
Harry waded through the complexities of the ritual. He changed it only subtly to imply their actual relationship, adult to child, teacher to student, father to son. Also clarifying Harry's connection to Voldemort.  
  
Harry ended with the words "Father, I release you from the bonds that hold you tied." He touched the Mark. There was a flash of magical light. Severus cried out.  
  
The magical power subsided once more. Professor MacGonagall quickly took down her barrier.   
  
Harry took his hand from Sev's arm and looked at the patch of bare skin where the mark had once been.  
  
"It's gone." Professor MacGonagall breathed. "I need a nap." Severus caught her around the shoulders as she almost fell. He led her out of the workroom to the comfortable chair behind her desk. She settled into it and lowered her head onto her folded arms.  
  
"Did it really work?" Harry asked, trying to shrug off his own fatigue.  
  
"Yes." Sev said simply. He stared at his cleansed skin.  
  
Professor MacGonagall looked up. "Help me to my office and then leave me. I just need rest."  
  
Sev helped her stand again. "There are reasons the old ways were abandoned." He said.  
  
"Severus?" She said sweetly.  
  
"Yes?"   
  
"Shut up." She growled.  
  
"Support her other side, Harry." Sev said, his mouth twitching up slightly.  
  
*****   
  
A/N – Tell me, does this qualify as a cliffhanger? 


	33. Dream Walker

Disclaimer: See previous chapters.  
  
A/N – Well, this time I waited for sadilou to come back before I posted, so everything is her fault. *nods* At least all the mistakes. Gusha is in charge of the brilliance.  
  
*****   
  
"I think I had another significant dream this morning." Harry said as they headed down to Sev's rooms.  
  
"Didn't you use the…"   
  
"Yes, I did." Harry cut in. "I don't remember the dream. That doesn't mean I didn't have it. I sometimes wake up suddenly. My scar doesn't hurt, but I usually have the feeling that it did or it might have or something."  
  
Sev looked down at his son, questioningly. He noticed in some irrelevant part of his mind that Harry was getting taller; soon he wouldn't be able to see the top of the boy's head.  
  
"I know, it doesn't make much sense, but that's what it feels like." Harry blew out a frustrated breath. "Nothing seems to make sense anymore, Sev. Sometimes I feel like the whole world has gone insane around me."  
  
"That's called adolescence, Harry. We all go through that." Sev looked down at his son almost questioningly and was gratified that the boy laughed. Sev allowed a smirk to play across his face.  
  
"Maybe you're right." Harry grinned up at him. "Hey, do you think Voldemort will go away if I grow up some."  
  
Sev made a choking sound that was almost a laugh.  
  
"Right," Harry sighed, shaking his head. "Too much to hope for."  
  
They reached the abstract painting. Sev looked furtively around the deserted landing and laid a simple privacy ward.  
  
"I'm going to show you this." He said, still glancing around, "If you want to see it, that is."  
  
Harry's eyes widened. "Tell me something about the painting first."  
  
Sev nodded. "It was the last thing my mother ever worked on. It was stored away, incomplete for many, many years. From the time she died until father became unable to manage the estate. When it was clear that father was incapable of rational thought, much less running the family, the house elves began answering to me instead of to him. I became the master of the house. It's an odd process. They decide more than anyone, although there were parallel legal and medical processes."  
  
Sev placed a hand on the frame of the painting. "This painting and quite a few others were placed in storage by the elves when father tried to destroy them. I finished this myself. It was my idea to incorporate the door guard. The design is entirely mother's. She painted the whole thing. It was not enchanted to move yet when I inherited it. I would say that it moves slightly differently than any of her others. I don't quite have her flair. You might say it was collaboration."  
  
"Does it have meaning?" Harry asked  
  
"Besides a rather obvious sadness and discontent?" Sev surveyed the motion of the picture for a while. "Yes, it has meaning. Sometime I will show you the book she put together about it. She made a book about each of her paintings. Mother was ill for about a year. I think father blamed her painting. Some of the paints contain hazardous substances: Lead, Doxy venom and various other things."  
  
"Was that the truth?" Harry asked.  
  
"No, I don't think it was. I spoke to her healer when I was a teenager. He told me painting had nothing to do with her death." Sev looked down at his son. "Do you want to see how it opens?"  
  
"Yes." He said softly. "I would like to know."  
  
"Stand here." Sev laid his hands on his shoulders and positioned him. "You see the general motion spirals in the opposite direction from the spiral of the column? The shapes move widdershins, the column spirals desoil."  
  
Harry gazed at the painting for several long moments. "Yes. Except for that green star. It almost follows the grove of the column. It looks like the only really crisp shape too."  
  
"Exactly right. When it reaches the top…Now. Watch it carefully."  
  
"There is something behind it." Harry said.  
  
"Concentrate carefully. Draw that hidden shape towards us. It will come."  
  
As they both concentrated, the shape resolved into a slowly spinning sphere. It changed in color from yellow to purple to bright red. It came closer and closer.  
  
"Now hold your hand out to where a doorknob should be. Don't touch the surface yet."  
  
The sphere came to rest beneath Harry's hand.  
  
"Just two fingers. Touch the spot lightly. Don't scare it away with a harsh jab. Caress it gently."  
  
Harry did as he was told. The painting swung outward.  
  
"Very good." Sev banished the wards. "It will take a couple of tries to get it right on your own. Let's go in."  
  
Harry led the way into Sev's sitting room.  
  
"Dumbledore said the man in your dream was found. It was Alexander Goyle. He's at St. Mungo's in the secure ward." Sev said.  
  
"Do they have any clues as to where Voldemort will hide out next?" Harry asked.  
  
"Not from Goyle." Sev said. "He is still unconscious."   
  
Harry sprawled out on the couch. "I didn't realize how tired I am until just now." He said with a yawn.  
  
"It is the magic you did just now." Sev replied, sitting in his chair and putting his feet up on the sitting room table.  
  
"Upstairs, you mean?"  
  
"And the door, of course." Sev rubbed his fingers on his bare forearm. "It feels so incredible. It doesn't hurt or itch or anything."  
  
Harry smiled and closed his eyes. "I'm glad," He murmured.   
  
"Hey, you're not falling asleep are you?" Sev smiled softly.  
  
"Hum? No… I." Harry yawned again. "No." His eyes opened just a slit. "You're laughing at me." He mumbled.  
  
"No, not at all." Sev countered.  
  
"Good." Harry's eyes slid shut once more.  
  
Sev shook his head and reached for the book he was reading. He would wake the boy in time for lunch.  
  
*****  
  
Harry was drifting on a sea of gray fog. He could see the lines of power floating around him. The ancient spells that went into the building the castle. The odd twisting of new magic, bubbling cauldrons and flourishing wands.   
  
He drifted out of the building and across the countryside. Roads and towns passed in a blur. He was being drawn gently on by something. He felt like a bird, spiraling downward. It felt like somewhere he had been before, maybe not physically, but it was familiar.  
  
He came to about ground level, but his feet hovered several feet in the air. Something about the place felt wrong. Harry looked around. There. The wrongness was coming from there.   
  
Harry felt cold. There was a scream. A frightening shrieking wail. There was a building, a cottage? It was difficult to tell as it was covered with writhing, angry looking magic: pain and desolation.  
  
Harry tried to back away from the cottage. It held him. The scream rose again.   
  
Transfixed, Harry moved closer. He peeked in through the window. Wormtail. That man stooping over a bed was Peter Pettigrew.   
  
On the bed was a sickening caricature of a man. It shrieked again. Voldemort. It had to be Voldemort. He seemed to be in great pain.  
  
Harry turned around; he searched the street for anything that would identify the place. Street signs, there. The name of the pub across the street, and a shop down the lane. He fixed the names in his mind. He turned the other way. The name of the town printed neatly on the public library's sign. Wonderful.  
  
Harry nodded. He needed to go back. Now.   
  
A spectral hand reached over his shoulder and grasped at the air there. He turned and wrenched himself away.  
  
"Who is there?" Asked a nasty voice. "Who are you, my little spy?"  
  
Harry stood in terror, Voldemort was still writhing in pain on the bed, but he was also at the window, reaching blindly for him.   
  
Harry forced himself to back away. He looked around for something to save himself. A fine silver thread trailed from his back off the way he had come. He took a hold of it in his hand and willed himself back along it.  
  
Harry jerked awake, panting. "Severus. I know where Voldemort is. We must move quickly."  
  
Sev stood; his book fell unnoticed to the floor.   
  
"We have to see Dumbledore now." He pulled Harry up from the couch propelled him to the door. "You can tell me about it there. There is no time to waste. I never should have let you sleep anywhere without your talismans for protection."  
  
Harry was taken aback by the rough treatment, but Sev was taking him where he wanted to go, so he did not protest. They practically ran through the halls.  
  
They stopped at the Staff Room. Dumbledore was still there. He was examining his newly knitted socks.  
  
"What is it, Severus?" He asked, looking up.  
  
"Harry has had another vision." Sev paused for a shuddering breath. "Go on and tell us about it, Harry. Sit over here."  
  
Sev and Harry sat near Dumbledore.  
  
Harry described his dream in all the detail he could remember. He related the place names he had memorized as well as the general directions he thought he had traveled.  
  
"Excellent, Harry." Dumbledore said when he was done. "However, I must impress upon you the danger you were in."  
  
"Believe me, I felt it." Harry said, wincing. "I don't think I will ever forget it."  
  
"I want you to carry one of your dream filtering talismans with you from now on, Harry." Dumbledore said gently. "We will set up lessons in Dream Walking, but for now, while things are so dangerous…" He trailed off.  
  
"I understand." Harry said, he looked at Sev who seemed to have relaxed some.   
  
"I must go." Dumbledore said, he stood, and then looked down at Severus. "Was Harry successful in removing the Mark?"  
  
"Yes." Sev said.   
  
"Do you think that was why Voldemort was ill?" Harry asked. "I mean backlash or something?"  
  
They were all silent for a few moments.  
  
"I believe that is a distinct possibility, Harry." Dumbledore said slowly. "I must go now. Do try to sleep in your own bed from now on."  
  
"Yes, sir." Harry said meekly.  
  
Dumbledore gathered up his things and left.  
  
Harry and Sev looked at each other for several long minutes.   
  
"I was frightened, Sev." Harry said.   
  
"I'm sorry, I should have known better than to let you sleep unprotected."   
  
"No, it wasn't your fault." Harry looked away and put his hands into his pockets. His hand encountered Della's letter book. "Oh, I have something I want to give you. I went through Della's things this morning." Harry pulled the book from his pocket.  
  
"Is that what I think it is?" Sev asked. "The book where Della recorded our courtship?"  
  
Harry nodded. "More than that. She put in all your letters from when you were separated too."  
  
"But the book was full." Sev said. "She must have added pages." He looked up from the book, seeming slightly panicked. "You read the whole thing?"  
  
Harry nodded. "She left it to me. I don't want to keep it, though. I think you should have it." He held out the little book. "She answered your letters."  
  
Sev's mouth hung open. He stared at the book in his son's hand. He swallowed. Then he reached out and took the book. "Thank you, Harry." The tears that glistened in his eyes did not fall.  
  
Harry looked away awkwardly.  
  
Sev opened the book and flipped through, looking at all the pasted in envelopes. "I…" He stopped again.  
  
"She loved you," Harry said. "I know she did."  
  
After an uncomfortably long silence, Harry's stomach growled audibly. "I'm starving. Is it lunchtime yet?"  
  
*****  
  
A/N – So, I'm winding this story to a close sometime soon. (still at least 5 chapters or so to go) If you review, please mention any obvious loose ends that I still need to tie off.   
  
I must say, this has been great fun. 


	34. More of Sev's Bedside Manner

Disclaimer: It all belongs to JKR.  
  
A/N – Well, sadilou abandoned me and took her computer too. I must rely on computer labs from now on. Besides that, I just started school again. I may only be able to post about once a week for a while.  
  
There is something awkward about this chapter. I'm not sure what, but some off the dialogue seems wrong. Oh well, I have sat on it long enough, hoping that I would be able to edit it into coherence.  
  
*****  
  
Severus entered the Hospital wing quietly. It was deathly quiet.   
  
He paused in the doorway of the main ward; it was still crowded. He looked around, identifying students, most of whom were still asleep.  
  
"Pardon me, Severus." Said someone behind him.  
  
Sev turned around and stepped back to let Poppy pass.  
  
"Well, is there anyone in particular you wanted to see?" She asked, when he did not say anything. "Since you're a teacher I suppose we can let you visit for a few minutes. I have been keeping most everyone out."  
  
"Um, no. I wanted to ask if you needed any supplies or assistance." Sev replied.  
  
"I will need more Dreamless Sleep Potion soon." She said thoughtfully. "Thank you for your help with the injured yesterday, Severus. I think my advanced students and I can manage now."  
  
"Of course. I will get my seventh year class to start work on Dreamless Sleep tomorrow. I usually don't cover it until spring, but I think they can handle it with careful guidance." Sev said. "Oh, by the way, in a few days you will want to check on those I, er, healed. They will all have some rather severe bruising. It will fade on its own, of course, but knowing you…"  
  
Poppy smiled weakly. "In a few days." She confirmed. "I am worn dreadfully thin. About that spell you used…?"  
  
Sev swallowed nervously. "When I was younger, I was a bit…reckless with my broom. The first time I broke my arm I modified the bone breaking curse to heal myself. I didn't know many Healing Charms, and the local medic was a sot." Sev shrugged. "I have always known too many curses."   
  
"And the bruising?" Poppy asked.  
  
"Partially a result of the break, partially the violence of the spell itself." Sev winced.  
  
"I see," She bit her lip. "And it's painful, you say?"  
  
"Yes. Quite painful." He agreed. "Even if you do it to yourself."  
  
"I think I will conduct interviews with your patients. Perhaps some of them would be willing to share their memories. For the good of the healing arts, of course."  
  
"Publish or perish, Poppy?" Sev smirked. "You?"  
  
She blushed. "Well, I must say, it is a fascinating concept, and since we have a large pool of subjects to study anyway…"  
  
Sev chuckled. "Right. I'll cooperate, don't worry."  
  
An incoherent shout echoed from one of the inner wards.  
  
Poppy winced. "Mr. Malfoy again." She said, hurrying towards the closed door. "I think he may be more bored and frustrated than anything. The pain potions are at full dose, but I don't want to put him out again. I don't suppose you would be willing to visit with him for a while?"  
  
"If I must." Severus agreed.  
  
"Thank you." She wrenched open the door. "Mr. Malfoy." She said sternly. "If you do not stop screeching loud enough to wake the Dreamless, I will be forced to Silence you!"  
  
"I'm hungry." Malfoy said petulantly. "When can I get out of here, anyway?"  
  
"When I say you are sufficiently healed, that's when." Poppy said. "Stop being so difficult and get that elf of yours to bring you more soup."  
  
"I don't want more chicken soup." Malfoy complained. "I want food. Solid food. And dessert, chocolate."  
  
"I'm glad to see Dobby puts your health above your wishes." Poppy said. "Now be so kind as to be quiet!" She turned and brushed past Severus. "He's all yours." She muttered.  
  
Severus entered the room and glanced around. Malfoy occupied one of four beds in the ward. In the other three students slept on despite the volume of Malfoy's demands.  
  
"You." The boy snarled.  
  
"Yes." Sev agreed. "Me."  
  
"What are you doing here?" Malfoy demanded then a gleam appeared in his eyes. "Could you bring me something to eat?"  
  
"Soup maybe." Sev smiled unpleasantly. "Yes. I'll have the kitchens make some more up for you."  
  
"Bah." Malfoy said, turning his head away. "You're no help."  
  
"Did you really think I would be?" Sev asked mildly.  
  
"I suppose not." Malfoy groaned tried to shift slightly.  
  
"What did you get hit with?" Sev asked, taking the seat near the bed.  
  
"Feels like a ton of bricks. My own father cursed me." Malfoy said still looking away. "I might be dead if it weren't for Weasley there." He gestured.  
  
Severus turned to look at the bed behind him. Ginny Weasley lay there, looking pale and near to death. "Oh?"  
  
"She pushed me out of the way. The spell hit her instead, most of it, anyway." Draco looked past Snape's shoulder. "She's a Gryffindor. Why would she do that? And for me."  
  
"Gryffindor bravery perhaps? You'll have to ask her when she wakes up." Sev said.  
  
"If she wakes up, you mean. I heard Madam Pomphrey say she was the worst case she had ever dealt with. Weasley has been in to see her twice."  
  
"He is her brother. He would be concerned about her." Severus kept his face neutral.  
  
"Seeing him so often has set back my recuperation." Malfoy griped. "I have to listen to him pleading with her not to die for what seems like hours at a time."  
  
"Where is Dobby? I thought he would still be hovering over you." Sev asked.  
  
Color rose in Malfoy's cheeks. "I sent him away. Told him to take his nasty soup and go away."  
  
"I see." Severus said impassively.   
  
"I suppose I'll have to apologize if I ever want to speak to him again." Malfoy sighed. "I've been short with him since I woke up."  
  
"He'll be back as soon as he thinks you need him." Severus predicted. "I believe he realizes how difficult you find being immobile."  
  
Malfoy snarled audibly.  
  
"Did he serve in your nursery?" Severus asked. "If you don't mind telling me."  
  
Malfoy scowled and started to nod when his injuries reminded him it would not be a good idea. "Yes, of course he did." Malfoy growled. "The youngest elf in our service when I was born."  
  
Severus nodded. "I thought it would be something like that. I almost stopped him when I saw he was hovering over you. Just in case he might do you harm."  
  
Malfoy smiled. "He didn't change that much. Father was never easy on the servants. He didn't understand house elves. He never had his own elf. A maiden aunt raised him, from what I understand she hated children."  
  
"Safer to leave an elf in charge." Severus said.   
  
"Perhaps." Malfoy agreed. "Dobby didn't change, but you have, Professor."  
  
"Oh? Have I really?" Severus raised an eyebrow.  
  
"You know you have. You taught us to hate Potter, now it seems he's your new pet." Malfoy growled.  
  
"I wouldn't call him my pet, precisely." Sev said, wondering how much to disclose.  
  
"What would you call him then?" Malfoy demanded.  
  
"His son." Said a very weak voice.  
  
Severus whirled around on his chair. "Miss Weasley. You're awake."  
  
"Professor, is that true?" Malfoy asked his mouth agape.  
  
"She is awake, yes." Sev said.  
  
"I mean what she said." Malfoy countered impatiently.  
  
"I do not confirm any such rumor." Snape said, evasively. "If it were true, Miss Weasley, it would not be your secret to reveal."  
  
She laughed softly and gasped. "If it was such a secret, Harry shouldn't have spoken about it in the common room." Here voice was hardly above a whisper. "Even if they were in a dark corner and speaking in low voices."  
  
"Rest quietly. Don't speak." Malfoy said. "Are you hungry? DOBBY!" He yelled.  
  
"Ouch." Weasley moaned.  
  
Dobby returned with his tray of soup.  
  
"Perhaps we should get Madam Pomphrey first." Severus stood. He was halfway to the door when it opened.  
  
"Silencio." Poppy said, pointing her wand at Malfoy. "And stay quiet." She said, breathing hard.  
  
"Poppy, Miss Weasley is awake." Severus said, amused.  
  
"Is she?" Poppy's turned towards the girl's bed. "How wonderful." She bustled over. "How do you feel, dear?"  
  
"Numb." The patient said weakly.  
  
"Be grateful, it will hurt soon enough. I didn't expect you to wake for days yet." Poppy said, using her wand to check her injuries. "Lie still. Don't try to move or speak."  
  
"Thirsty too." Miss Weasley said.  
  
"We will let you have some water to begin with." Poppy said happily. "I'll let your brother know you're awake. We sent an owl to your parents, but I doubt it is safe for them to travel at the moment."  
  
Severus watched Dobby spoon soup into Malfoy's protesting mouth.   
  
"I'll just leave you to your lunch, Mr. Malfoy." Sev said, standing. "I'll get that potion to you, Poppy." His gaze rested on Ginny Weasley. His mouth twisted into what was almost a smile. "You remind me of your mother, girl, and that's a good thing." He turned and left quickly.  
  
*****  
  
A/N - Well, there you have it. I considered putting in some of Ginny and Draco's conversation, but decided to limit POVs to just Harry and Sev. 


	35. Another Visit

Disclaimer: Well, you know the details.  
  
This Chapter is dedicated to Darth Stitch. Hey, are you still out there? *waves*  
  
Sorry this has taken so long.  
  
Well, there is a great deal of Ginny/Draco action that I am not going to include. Things involving Lucius and prophecies and Dobby and many other fascinating topics.   
  
Harry and Sev do not live in a vacuum, the thoughts and actions of others are important, but this story is about them. Their relationship. Sigh. Once again, I will say that their story is nearly finished. (Four maybe five chapters left) I do promise to finish.  
  
By the way, I am aware that the sense of time passing is a bit messed up. I may clean it up some if I ever go back and edit all previous chapters. Please try not to let it interfere with your enjoyment of the story itself. We are going to pretend that it is both Sunday and Halloween. The attack was yesterday. *Scratches her head* I think that's right.   
  
Since my beta has moved away, I am forced to post this without her knowledge.  
  
*****  
  
Dumbledore was conspicuously absent when the Halloween feast began. It added a jarring note to the already subdued proceedings.   
  
Madam Pomphrey had released many of the students, so the Hall was nearly as full as usual. Only the most serious injuries were celebrating the holiday in the Hospital.  
  
Severus surveyed the students almost sadly. As much as he frowned on rule breaking and lack of discipline, he did not like to see his students injured physically or emotionally. Like the young of any species, they would survive adversity and flourish. However, he wished they could have sheltered them a while longer.   
  
There was laughter in the Hall. Jokes were being told. But the silences stretched on as well.  
  
Just as the sweets were presented, the main doors were thrust open with a bang. Dumbledore strode in, a stern look on his face and a manic gleam in his eyes.  
  
He said nothing. He just took his seat and a large portion of lemon custard.  
  
The students, who had all fallen silent at the Headmaster's dramatic entrance now all began talking at once.  
  
Sev winced at the noise. He tried subtly to catch Dumbledore's attention, but was unsuccessful.  
  
"Albus?" He finally said, eyes questioning.  
  
"Later, Severus, later. All is well." Dumbledore said with a small, satisfied smile. He returned all of his attention to his plate.  
  
Severus turned to look over the hall. His eyes met Harry's. Sev twisted his mouth wryly and shrugged.  
  
Harry blew the fringes of his hair out of his eyes and scrunched up his nose. He shrugged as well, and turned to speak with his friends.  
  
Sev watched his son, not realizing how tender his gaze was.   
  
At long last the plates were cleared and Dumbledore stood.  
  
 "The recent disturbances have left their mark on us all. Tonight we celebrate All Hollows Eve. The dark night when the veil between the past, the present and the future is at it's thinnest. It is a time to honor friends and loved ones who have gone before.  
  
"In joy and light we chase away the evils that would attempt to haunt us. It is a night for caution, not fear. Now, I believe that a further celebration has been planned in your common rooms. Our customary curfews will not apply, but I will caution you not to leave the safety of your houses this night, for deep magic indeed will be afoot."  
  
Dumbledore sat and curious murmurs spread over the hall. Slowly, the students rose and made their way in groups and clumps out of the Hall.  
  
Sev noticed that Harry and his friends were still seated. He again shrugged to signify he still did not know what was going on.  
  
"Albus?" Sev said again, masking his second inquiry in the noise of the hall.  
  
"Yes, Severus?" Dumbledore smiled mildly, not even looking in his direction.  
  
"Well, what did you discover?" Severus hissed impatiently.  
  
"All in good time, Severus. In the meantime, you have an appointment tonight, I believe?"  
  
Severus sighed. "Right." He had forgotten, actually.   
  
He hoped Blaine's coming meant good news, but he knew better than to expect it.  
  
"Do you still have the key?" Severus asked.  
  
"No, I put it back where it belongs. Be sure to see our friend off the school grounds after you have spoken with him."  
  
"He wouldn't…" Sev began hotly.  
  
Dumbledore raised his hand. "It is the law of this place. You know it, and he knows it, and it has never been broken."  
  
"Yes, Headmaster." Sev agreed.  
  
"Join me in the hospital wing when you're finished." Dumbledore smiled his most inscrutable smile. "All will become clear."  
  
Severus stood and exited by the staff door.   
  
He stopped in his room to change his clothes.  
  
[A/N: Bad Gusha]   
  
Except for the high collar, his clothing would not have been out of place in most of Muggle society. He surveyed the effect in his mirror and then donned the black cape with a flourish. He considered leaving off the top hat, but then sighed and put it on as well.  
  
He left his rooms, only pausing for a moment as he passed the Slytherin common room. He should have looked in on them. Should he do so now, dressed as he was? He winced.   
  
No. Later.  
  
After he had seen Blaine would be soon enough. After he was back in robes, but before he joined Albus in bringing the holiday to the hospital patients.  
  
In the depths of the second dungeon level there was a narrow, winding stair leading down…   
  
Severus paused at the first landing placed his hand on the wall.  
  
"Open to me, for I am a delegate of the Headmaster." A small alcove appeared when the ancient magic that hid it sensed his sincerity.  
  
Severus surveyed the contents of the small space. A silver knife, a wooden stake with matching mallet, fresh garlic, myriad and sundry other useless objects and a single, silver key.  
  
As always, Severus contemplated the morality of such an arsenal so near what should be a place of safety and refuge.  
  
He picked up only the key and drew his hand away. The alcove and its contents once again disappeared in shadow and magic.  
  
Sev cautiously descended the rest of the stairs. When the light of the last school lantern grew dim, he lit witch fire at the end of his wand.  
  
When he came to the blank wall at the foot of the stairs he said. "I come, with the consent of the Headmaster, at the bidding of the being inside." Like the alcove upstairs, a door coalesced out of the shadows.  
  
Severus fitted the key in the lock and the door opened soundlessly. He stepped in and pocketed the key. The door slid shut behind him.   
  
He shook his head. The tunnel he found himself in was one of the features of Hogwarts that predated the school. It wound, back, forth and around, deep into the bedrock.  
  
How the parents would complain if they knew that Hogwarts maintained one of the oldest vampire lairs in Briton.  
  
Not that there was a permanent occupant. The very idea that there could be such a monster so close to their children… as if Lupin didn't count. He scowled, but forced himself to relax.  
  
Massive precautions were always taken. Some necessary, some not.  
  
The tunnel ended in another door.  
  
Severus knocked on it. It creaked open of its own accord.  
  
"Come in." A cool voice invited.  
  
Severus entered and the door swung shut with an ominous clang.   
  
"I have come as I was bid, My Lord." Severus said in the ancient formula. He pulled down his collar and tilted his head so his neck was fully exposed. "My life is in your hands."  
  
The shadowy figure shuddered. "Ugh. Don't be so disgusting, Severus. Pull up your collar. The very idea is enough to make me ill."  
  
"Are you quite sure, Blaine?" Sev smirked. "It was a long day, I'd hate to leave you hungry."  
  
"Yes." Blaine made a gesture and lamps lit themselves around the room. "I remember the last time I tried that well enough not to risk it." The vampire rubbed his abdomen. "Why can't you just bring me a cat like any other, normal non-prey?"  
  
Sev pulled his collar back up. "We tried that once before, if you recall."  
  
Blaine shuddered again. "That mangy thing? I'd scarcely call that a cat." He growled. "It was nearly as toxic as you are. I never did ask, whatever did you feed the thing?"  
  
"Me? Why nothing." Sev smirked. "It certainly isn't mine. I have neither the time nor the inclination to look after a cat. It belongs to the caretaker."  
  
"You know, Severus," Blaine said, becoming very solemn. "I believe you could be more offensive if you really tried." He shook his head. "Come have a seat, boy."  
  
Severus snorted as he approached. "Boy is it?" He folded his cape around himself as he sat.  
  
"Yes. It is how I remember you best, after all. You were such a sweet, succulent little boy. They never should have taught you to read. Then you would never have found that deuced toxicity potion."  
  
Severus relaxed into the comfortable chair. "I never thought it would last this long." He lifted a hand to his hair. "Yet it seems to be as potent as ever." He had been seven when he'd brewed the potion Blaine referred to. Sharing Alde Craig's dungeon with a vampire was not a healthy way to grow up; even if they were friends.  
  
"Yes." Blaine agreed, wrinkling his nose. "I can smell it." He sniffed, as if to emphasize his point. "Huh, not quite the same as before. Your relationships with other humans must have shifted." He drew in another odor filled breath. "Your father is still alive, isn't he?"  
  
"Father still lives. I have a son." Severus explained swiftly.  
  
"You do?" The vampire raised a sculpted eyebrow. "An infant? You? I don't smell the mother on you."  
  
Severus looked away. "He's fifteen. His mother is long dead."  
  
"Della?" Blaine breathed. Severus just nodded. "Now there was sweetness. The scent of an innocent and the strength of a nation. So many 'if onlys' attached to that memory."  
  
"Hey! Keep your mind off my wife." Sev growled.  
  
"Yes, yes. Protocol. Friendship ties and protocol." Blaine laughed. "Which brings us to the purpose of my visit."  
  
"Yes, I am anxious to hear your news." Sev agreed.  
  
"I have come directly from the British Vampiric Council, 1276th session." Blaine said with a grin. "It is the consensus of the council not to support Voldemort if he should apply for our collective aid. It was nearly unanimous."  
  
"Dumbledore will be pleased to hear it." Severus said.  
  
"Indeed. I would have told him myself, but I wanted to see you again. I miss our old nightly contact." Blaine smiled. "It is the further consensus of the council that 'Voldemort is a megalomaniacal imbecile who would have done better to at least change his name after being defeated by an infant.'"  
  
"Is that the general feeling among other Dark Dwellers as well?" Severus asked.  
  
"Yes, except among the Giants," Blaine's nostrils flared in disgust. "who are too thick skulled to grasp the concept."   
  
"So, would you say there is much chance of him recruiting new followers?" Sev asked.  
  
"Very little." Blaine smiled. "Those he can get will be mostly too foolish or too ignorant to be worth much."  
  
"Excellent."  
  
"Of course, the Council is not about to link with the Ministry of Magic either." Blaine cautioned. "No such question was even advanced."  
  
"No." Sev agreed. "We didn't think it would be."  
  
Business concluded, the talk turned to old times.  
  
*****  
  
A/N - Well, that was roughly planned from the start as well. But only roughly.   
  
There will be more Father/Son time in about two chapters… maybe… I think.  
  
Unfortunately, I do not believe the next posting will be quick. I still need to write it. 


	36. Curiouser and curiouser

Yes, Yes, Yes, we know. We have been very bad children. The good news seems to be that we have actually graduated from college at last. Seven years is a long time to spend getting a simple BFA. (Studio art: ceramics if you're interested.)  
  
Disclaimer: As we do not exist we cannot possibly own any part of the Harry Potter universe – which does exist as far as we can tell.  
  
Harry's heart sank as he watched his father sweep out of the hall without so much as glancing in his direction.  
  
Ron stood, as if to follow the crowd to the dormitories, but sank back onto the bench when Hermione pulled on his arm.  
  
"Now what?" Ron asked grumpily, "I'm a bit exhausted, you know."  
  
"Yeah, and crabby too." Harry grinned. "Come on, we need to speak to Dumbledore."  
  
Ron sighed, but trailed along.  
  
"Oh, good." Dumbledore said quietly as they approached. "This keeps us all in character."   
  
He paused and then said in a louder voice. "Yes, Mr. Weasley, I will help you get in to see your sister. I understand how trying all of this has been for family and friends. Come along, all three of you. Minerva, Remus, I need to speak with you, accompany us if you would."   
  
He surveyed the Great Hall once more before turning to Professors Sprout and Flitwick and saying very quietly. "I trust I can depend on the two of you to mind the school in the absence of both the Deputy Headmistress and myself? I don't know that we will be gone long, but…"  
  
"You may depend on us sir." Flitwick squeaked determinedly.  
  
"Albus…" Professor McGonagall began.  
  
"Come along, Minerva, there is no time to waste." Dumbledore interrupted. "I'd like to be done before midnight."  
  
Professor McGonagall looked as if she wanted to say more, but changed her mind with a frown.   
  
When they had left the Hall, several corridors and a flight of stairs behind, Dumbledore stopped in an empty, unused room. There was not even a single portrait on the walls.  
  
"Minerva, we discussed a plan this morning." Dumbledore said. "Do you remember it?"  
  
"That was completely hypothetical…" She protested.  
  
"Ah, then you do remember it? Good. How long would it take you to prepare the old sorcery workroom with the spells we discussed?" He drew a scroll case from the sleeve of his robe. "Here is all of the information we have. I made some alterations, so look it over carefully. Have Remus cast the Bindings. They need to be constructed by their caster, so he'll have to do it. Severus makes a better Fire Anchor anyway. Oh, and draw in a supporting role for Mr. Weasley. He could be useful."  
  
"Which workroom?" She asked dully, taking the scroll case.   
  
"The old one." Dumbledore repeated; emphasis on old. "I've learned a few things today. There will never be a better time than Halloween to do this. We will join you when Severus is ready."  
  
"I'll need about an hour to set it all up." She nodded. "Remus?"  
  
"Yes. What…Yes." Lupin stopped himself before he voiced any questions and followed her out the door.  
  
It took effort of will, but Harry, Ron and Hermione kept silent too.  
  
Dumbledore eyed the door as it closed behind his colleagues.  
  
"Tonight I will show you the advantages of working with your instructors instead of around them."  
  
With that, Dumbledore led them out of the room and up to the Hospital wing.  
  
A/N – Curiouser and curiouser. That wily old Dumbledore ought to be more explicit in his instructions. It's a good thing I know what they're all doing.  
  
Harry smoothed the end of the bandage he had just rolled and secured it with a straight pin. He laid the neat roll next to the last one he had done.  
  
He looked up and met Hermione's eyes. She smiled uneasily and dropped her eyes back to her own bandage. Harry sighed silently and looked over into the ward where Ron was fussing over his sister.   
  
His gaze crossed that of Draco Malfoy. Draco rolled his eyes and turned his chin away. Draco hadn't said a word since the three friends had arrived; not even to Dobby who was fawning over him.  
  
Harry looked down at the bandage end that had somehow found its way into his hands. Madame Pomfrey had firmly insisted that they had to be rolled by hand. Apparently wand magic would disturb the delicate potion she had used on them.  
  
Harry focused completely on the fabric in his hands. There were a great many things he was unwilling to think about right then.  
  
Suddenly the outer doors opened and Severus swept in. He stopped next to their table.  
  
"Dumbledore?" He asked.  
  
Harry shook his head slightly and pointed to the closed door of one of the private rooms. "He and Madame Pomfrey disappeared into there. We've still no clue what's going on."  
  
"Oh." Severus pulled out a chair and sat. He picked up an unrolled bandage and sniffed it. "She told you these would be ruined by wand magic?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.  
  
They nodded and Sev pulled out his wand. "Watch this."  
  
He wrapped one end of the bandage around the end of his wand and twirled it. Within moments he had a perfectly rolled bundle.  
  
Harry stared, Hermione laughed out loud.  
  
"Not a bad trick, eh?" Sev's cheek twitched in what might have been a smile or maybe a wink.  
  
"Rose?" Harry asked?  
  
Sev nodded. "Rose." He looked around. "Where's Mr. Weasley? Where there are two of you there's usually three."  
  
"In with Ginny." Hermione said.  
  
Severus paled. "Ah, yes, I'd almost forgotten." He turned towards the open door to the ward.  
  
Draco Malfoy, seeing an opportunity, began waving one hand feebly and moving his mouth as if he were screaming.  
  
"No." Severus said firmly. "Calm down, Mr. Malfoy. No, I will not release the charm."  
  
Draco made as if to rise, but fell back immediately. He clenched his jaw and his hand fell limply by his side.  
  
Severus stood as if to go to him, but at that moment the door to the private room opened. Dumbledore came out, followed closely by Madame Pomfrey.   
  
"Ah, Severus, I thought I heard your voice." Dumbledore said. "Come assist me, please, and you can tell me your news."  
  
"I think Mr. Malfoy needs you, Poppy." Severus said. "I don't believe he's resting comfortably."  
  
Madame Pomfrey bustled across the room muttering about children.  
  
"Collect Mr. Weasley." Dumbledore instructed, before disappearing back into the room. "We will leave immediately."  
  
Ron came into view just as Harry and Hermione approached the doorway.  
  
"Time to go?" He asked.  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
Dumbledore and Severus reappeared with a shrouded stretcher suspended magically between them.  
  
"Come along." Dumbledore led the group to one of the walls and levitated a tapestry out of the way. There was a passageway there. They descended a straight, narrow stair that ended on the school lawn. Harry realized with a start that they were quite close to the Whomping Willow.   
  
Dumbledore conjured a long stick to prod the tree with. It stopped moving and Dumbledore led them all into the passage to the Shrieking Shack. Harry exchanged glances with his friends, but none of them spoke. The entire procession trudged on in eerie silence.  
  
A/N – Well, should we stop there? No, not really. We believe we shall post the next chapter too.  
  
I know there are people out there that like longer chapters, but I am not really one of them. I shall break up my chapters as I see fit. 


	37. The Plan

Disclaimer: Not ours, not ours, not ours.  
  
Well, we promised. Here is more, and more, and more.  
  
The whole Shack was brightly lit, almost dazzling after the passage. Dumbledore led them through the kitchen and into what should have been a pantry or root cellar. A door in the wall led to another long set of stairs.  
  
"Carefully!" Professor McGonagall's voice rang up the stairs as Dumbledore reached the bottom. "There's enough room, but only just. I will guide you one at a time to your places. I take it that is Goyle?"  
  
"Yes." Dumbledore said simply.  
  
"I take it we will be able to revive him at the appropriate time?"  
  
"Ennervate should do it." Dumbledore confirmed.  
  
"Good. I'll place him first. Pass the stretcher to me." The lumpy shape entered passed the archway at the bottom of the stairs and was lost from view.   
  
McGonagall reappeared at the foot of the stairs. "Pass these parchments up to Harry. He should start going over the changes right away." Hermione and Ron, below and above him on the stairs, looked to him as if for answers. Harry shook his head.  
  
The blood drained out of Harry's face when he saw the parchments. "What? What is it?" Hissed Hermione.  
  
Harry swallowed and then shook his head, unable to speak.   
  
"Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall's voice echoed up the stairs. "You've studied the runes, haven't you?" She rolled the r in runes spectacularly.  
  
"Yes, ma'am." Hermione replied nervously.  
  
"And would you say that you are able to pronounce them properly?" Professor McGonagall asked.  
  
Hermione's eyes grew to owl- like proportions. "In." She squeaked, cleared her throat and continued. "In a classroom setting, yes. Under pressure…" Her voice trailed off. She closed her eyes and swallowed again. "Yes." She said after only a moment and clearly with more conviction than she felt.  
  
"Good, and, Miss Granger, is there an element you feel most comfortable with?" Professor McGonagall asked.  
  
If possible, Hermione's eyes grew wider than before. "Professor McGonagall, We're not…"  
  
"No." Professor McGonagall cut in. "We are going to ask you to anchor one quarter of a large Working. You will read a set of runes to invoke it and another to banish it."  
  
Hermione relaxed slightly. "Water, I think."  
  
"Water?" Professor McGonagall said her brow creasing. "Are you sure?"  
  
"Yes." Hermione nodded, sounding small.  
  
"Very well." Professor McGonagall said. "Albus, you first."  
  
"Is everything ready, Minerva?" Dumbledore asked.  
  
"Yes. Are you really sure this will work?" She asked.  
  
"Yes." Dumbledore said with firm finality. "But it isn't too late to summon more people to take part. A secondary circle perhaps?"  
  
Professor McGonagall shook her head. "The Working is already more complex than any I have drawn since I took my NEWT."  
  
Dumbledore looked at the group above him on the stairs. "Before we go in, I think everyone is due a little explanation. You all must be wondering why we're here." Ron, Hermione and Severus nodded, Harry was afraid he already knew.   
  
"This afternoon, Harry had a frightening experience. In a dream, or vision, if you prefer, he was able to pinpoint Voldemort's location. Based on his accurate information, I was able to capture him and destroy the body he had created for himself."  
  
Dumbledore drew a small, stoppered bottle from his robes. It looked like it was made of reddish stone and was marked with strange symbols and letters. The adults – and Hermione – gasped. Professor McGonagall looked as if she might faint.  
  
"This is a spirit bottle." Dumbledore said solemnly. "Imprisoned within is the shade of Tom Riddle, Lord Voldemort."  
  
"You brought that thing into the school?" Professor McGonagall demanded. "What if he had gotten away? Those things aren't…"  
  
Dumbledore held up his hand and she fell silent.  
  
"You might not all know that Harry was able to remove the Dark Mark from Severus' arm. I have reason to believe that Voldemort was greatly weakened. His most trusted servant took him away to the place where I found them. Peter Pettigrew died - rather bravely in fact. His body is in the hands of the Ministry. I have reason to believe Sirius will be cleared."  
  
Dumbledore held up the spirit bottle again. "I have great hopes that tonight's work will be able to weaken Voldemort's shade enough that he will never again be able to take human form.  
  
"First, Hermione, Minerva, Severus and I will charge the circle. Second, Harry will summon the people who still bear Voldemort's mark by triggering the one on Goyle's arm.   
  
"Third, Remus will bind them in place. Fourth, we will bring the circle to full power, splitting our focus between supporting both Remus and Harry. Fifth, Harry will remove the Mark from each of the bound Death Eaters.   
  
"Finally, Remus will invoke the second layer of the binding which will immobilize the Death Eaters until we can bring them before the Wizengamut. Are there any questions?"  
  
"Um, yes actually." Ron said. "What exactly am I to do?"  
  
"Minerva?" Dumbledore turned to her.  
  
She sighed heavily. "The only one of us with no preparation whatsoever for his part in this night's business is you, Ronald Weasley. Nevertheless, your part is important. Whenever one of us says 'Engamut Eris Tellam' you are to say 'San Garit Ru.' Keep your eyes on me; I will nod each time to cue you." Professor McGonagall passed a piece of parchment up to him. "Do not bother to memorize it, just read it each time."  
  
"Do you know what this means, Hermione?" Ron asked very quietly, his stomach tying itself into knots.  
  
Hermione looked up at him, unblinking. "Yes, and, no I won't tell you." She seemed to flinch a little. "Just say it properly, will you?"  
  
Professor McGonagall led them into the room one by one. Lupin was there already, drawing on the floor with the tip of his wand. He referred carefully to a chart in his hand as he went.  
  
It was an enormous, circular room. The ceiling was so high that it disappeared in shadow. The walls and floors were covered in symbols, some drawn in chalk, some permanent inlays.  
  
Harry read and reread the reworked spell until he understood the nuances of meaning. He scarcely noticed that Severus had finished double checking Lupin's line placement and everyone was in place.  
  
Harry finally looked up to find everyone looking right at him.  
  
"Harry?" Dumbledore said softly, "Are you ready to begin?"  
  
"Yes." Harry said with more conviction than he felt.  
  
Dumbledore met the eyes of each participant and they nodded.  
  
A/N – Well, all that should go off without a hitch, shouldn't it? I mean…  
  
Teh heh, said she and clapped the window shut.  
  
(It's Chaucer, it's loosely translated, it's a quote, and your mama would be perturbed if she caught you reading its source.)  
  
We have all learned to ignore Gusha by now, haven't we? 


	38. San Garit Ru

Disclaimer: Not Really Ours.  
  
Well, I said I was going to keep this to 2 points of view, Sev and Harry. I guess I lied.   
  
I do not intend the magic presented in this scene to represent any tradition or methodology of magic. I basically made it up as I went along. I am operating on the theory that wands are not the only way to work magic. We have no glimpses from JKR of what group spells would be like, or how Runes are used in the wizarding world. Therefore, while not canonical, it is not really non-canonical either. Not that that really matters now does it…  
  
Ron stood in his place, forcing himself to remember to breathe. He stood within a group of symbols near the wall. He glanced at the parchment in his hand again 'San Garit Ru.' His throat was dry, he tried to swallow.  
  
His eyes drifted again to the roll of parchment at his feet. He wondered again what was written there. Professor McGonagall had led him carefully to this very spot, pointed to the parchment and said it was for him if they needed it. Then she said she hoped they didn't need it. Awfully cryptic, that.  
  
"Harry?" Dumbledore's voice sounded very loud in the huge room. "Are you ready to begin?"  
  
"Yes." Harry replied.  
  
Ron wondered with just a touch of panic how his friend could sound so sure of himself. He calmed himself by reading his line to himself again. 'San Garit Ru.'  
  
Hermione spoke first. Her voice was clear and steady, although Ron could not understand a word she was saying. She began to glow blue, faintly at first, but growing brighter as she continued.   
  
Then she stopped, looked over at him and met his eyes. He stood looking at her for a moment. Her eyes widened expectantly, and then she frowned and jerked her chin towards Professor McGonagall.  
  
Ron looked at Professor McGonagall, who nodded as soon as he met her eye.  
  
Ron blushed and read his line from the parchment in his hand.  
  
"San Garit Ru." His voice was loud and strong, at least he hoped it was.  
  
Professor Snape spoke next, glowing a deep, clean red. Ron did not miss his cue again.  
  
"San Garit Ru."  
  
Professor McGonagall was next. Her mossy green aura meeting first Hermione's blue then Snape's red.  
  
"San Garit Ru."  
  
Professor Dumbledore spoke last. At first it seemed to Ron that he was not glowing like the rest of them. Then, he noticed that the air around Dumbledore was shimmering and swirling as it reached out to touch all three of the others. It settled out, as Dumbledore finished speaking and Ron saw it was pale yellow like early dawn.  
  
"San Garit Ru."  
  
The four anchors spoke together and their glowing half-sphere settled into the flat plane of the floor. Then it disappeared from view.  
  
Harry pulled the sheet from the lumpy figure of Goyle. Ron was slightly surprised to see, not his classmate, but a man that could only be his father.  
  
"Ennervate" Harry said, pointing his wand at Goyle. The corpse like figure jerked and groaned. Harry seized his arm and activated the Dark Mark that was there. Ron could not quite see how it was done.  
  
A moment later, he no longer wondered, his attention was taken by the Death Eaters who had appeared in their midst.   
  
Lupin said one single word and all of the shadowy figures were frozen in place.  
  
The four anchors spoke in unison again and Ron heard his cue again.   
  
"San Garit Ru."  
  
The half-sphere blazed back to life, obscuring Ron's view.  
  
Time stretched on as he heard Harry speak to the Death Eaters one by one. Later, Ron would have no clear memory of how many there were or how long it took. It seemed to be forever and a single instant all at once.   
  
Then Harry fell silent and Lupin took over once again.  
  
Ron spoke his line three more times for Lupin, and then the brightness of the circle began to fade. The anchors spoke again, Hermione first. As soon as he had spoken his line, her blue glow winked out completely, and she collapsed onto the ground.  
  
Ron wanted to run to her, but Professor McGonagall's quick head shake and the combined power still shimmering in front of him stopped him.   
  
As Professor Snape spoke, Ron realized he couldn't see either Harry or Professor Lupin.  
  
Ron spoke his line and watched incredulously as Professor Snape collapsed as well.  
  
He was followed into unconsciousness by Professor McGonagall and then, most incredibly of all by Professor Dumbledore.  
  
After Dumbledore's power had faded, Ron realized that there was still a silvery dome of power in the center of the room. It was opaque, Ron could not see through it.  
  
Ron looked around the room numbly. He was the only one standing. He stared blankly down at the scrap of parchment in his hand. What should he do now?  
  
Then he remembered the scroll at his feet. He reached out for it, careful not to move his feet from where Professor McGonagall had placed them.  
  
He unrolled the parchment slowly and was relived to see Professor McGonagall's familiar handwriting.  
  
Ronald Weasley,  
  
Since you have opened this, I will assume that the other teachers and I are incapacitated. Please follow these instructions carefully.   
  
With your foot, rub out the symbols surrounding you. Then, working your way around the circle, not through it, do the same for the lines bit not the symbols of the outer circle.   
  
You and anyone else available should transport the unconscious to the alcove at the back of the room. I enabled the lift this afternoon. It will take us up to the second floor bedrooms. Please make us as comfortable as possible.  
  
Use Mobilicorpus if possible, or Wingardium Leviosa, if necessary, although that may cause some distortion of the spell.  
  
Under no circumstances are you to disturb the spell in the center of the room. When you are finished, seal the alcove and the door with this symbol.  
  
Yours trustingly,  
  
Minerva McGonagall  
  
Ron swallowed and began following her instructions.  
  
Well, I hope you liked that. Wink. 


End file.
